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#i really need tea and something stronger
salzsee-e · 5 months
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My mother got me an advent calendar, and today's note broke me. I'm shuddering at the ineffebility of it all
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angelltheninth · 7 months
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Genshin Men + It's Getting Harder to Sleep Without You
Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Thoma, Childe, Dottore, Pantalone, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Zhongli x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, domestic fluff, insomnia, kissing, cuddles, tea, naps, hurt/comfort, reunion, slight angst, purring (for Nauvillette and Zhongli)
A/N: I know I shouldn't say sorry for the lack of content lately but turns out that a novel takes a lot out of you. The good news it that it's almost done!
Kaeya falls asleep pretty easily on most nights on his ship, it's only in the last few weeks that he's had trouble. Staying up will make him sloppy so he would take a few walks outside under the sky and find himself thinking of you. This helped him sleep but only served to make him miss you more. Maybe the solution is to bring you along more often, then he can hold and kiss you every night, no more daydreaming for him.
Diluc has never had an easy time sleeping and it's always worse when he doesn't have you to hold. He would toss from one side of the bed to the next, eventually sighing in defeat and fully waking up until the next day. His tiredness was obvious and you weren't gonna have him falling asleep standing. A nap seemed like a good solution but he demanded you sit in his lap and cuddle him. Despite sleeping in a chair it was the best nap he's ever had.
Thoma sleeps like a baby after a long day... usually. For some reason it feels like something's been missing lately. No matter what he couldn't figure it out, his routine was the same. The only thing that he could think of was... oh, those late, very intimate nights with you. Were you the key? He wasn't sure but it was worth a try. You were like a big blanket on top of him, nuzzled against his chest. Just what he needed.
Childe forces himself to have a good sleep because otherwise it would get in his way of getting stronger. But lately he can't seem to sleep for long periods of time if you aren't there, which is troubling for his missions. To make up for lost time he sleeps in your bed every night after, hogging all your attention, his face firmly pressed against your chest and arms around you like you'll vanish at any moment.
Dottore tells himself he only needs a few hours of sleep every night. It was like that before he started letting you stay in his bed. After that he can't even get a few hours without your warm, most of the time naked, body laying against his. He will drink tea to make himself fall asleep by force, he did this many times before you saw him look all groggy and grumpy one night with a steaming cup in his hand. You took him by the arm and told him he needs to rest that dangerous brain of his, or else you won't ever sleep with him again.
Pantalone can only get a really good sleep if he's kissed you goodnight. Your kiss, gentle, soft and loving, is like the best sleeping medicine to him. Truly he's tried everything else and the moment he started kissing you one night when he was feeling frustrated he knew he found the solution to his insomnia. Now he just needed to make sure you're willing to make out for a little while before going to bed. An easy task seeing how you practically jump his bones after he comes home.
Neuvillete used to love sleeping with the sound of rain against the window. Yet now every time it rains it's due to his bed being too cold, too empty without you in it. He's gotten so used to you combing your fingers through his hair and smelling your sweet scent that now he's unable to rest otherwise. Only when you kiss him and tell him you're back to visit does the rain stop falling so fast, instead becoming a pleasant backdrop as he sighs, purrs and plants tired kisses on your exposed skin.
Wriothesley has a habit of late night workouts to burn his extra energy. Not necessary as much now that he's in a relationship with you, which is nice but messes with his routine. One that he's had for a very long time. Lately you've noticed him flexing his fists whenever you'll be separated for a time, but he will deny it if you bring it up. No, he won't say anything when you get home, just wrap his arms around you from behind and kiss your shoulder, his body shaking with all that pent up energy mixed with a lack of sleep. And only you can help with both.
Zhongli doesn't mind lack of sleep but he knows you do and he knows you're awake when he's awake. Therefore he decides to fix that by sleeping together with you when you stay over. It felt nice, really nice, too nice and he finds himself wishing for it more and more often. So much so that it becomes his only way of getting deep sleep, the rest are more like power naps. You can't complain either, the sounds of the content rumbling within his chest is very soothing to listen to while you sleep.
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specshroom · 3 months
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★ - Some assistance
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You and your boyfriend are lounging on the couch in the living room, winding down after a long day. He's drinking his evening tea and reading while you unsuccessfully distract yourself by flicking through channels on the TV. You decide to just come out and ask what you've been meaning to ask for awhile now.
"Kento? Do you think you could make me squirt?"
This poor man chokes on his tea and almost messes it on his home shirt. He just looks at you with a face that says "Why would you ask me something like that so suddenly?" You just look at him deadpan waiting for his response. He clears his throat and composes himself, realising it was a somewhat serious question and his girlfriend (soon to be fiancé, hopefully) wasn't just playing some dumb joke. 
"Well... I'm sure I could try, Y/n. But why bring that up so out of the blue, if you mind me asking."
He responds, as polite as always. He makes you feel so safe in his presence it's almost supernatural.
"Uh... I've just been thinking about it for awhile, I guess." He places his mug on the coffee table, the one that says "Live, Laugh, Love" in exaggerated curly font, courtesy of Gojo. He doesn't know why you insist on making his tea in that mug but he drinks it every time anyway. He brings your legs into his lap and lightly massages them silently asking you to continue. 
"I'm just curious to see if I can is all. Whenever I've tried to do it myself, I always just get too sensitive and stop, but... If I had someone else do it, I think I might actually be able to."
You explain this to him almost like a scientist explains their hypothesis, like you've thought about it for awhile. He rubs under your shins and thinks for a bit. he would very much like to be the one to make you squirt and he's confident in his abilities but he also doesn't want you to be upset if you end up not being able to do it.
"I also just think it would be really hot if you made me squirt." 
That breaks him out of his thoughts with a disbelieving huff. 
"The problem is that when I get sensitive I'm gonna be yelling for you to stop out of second nature. But you can't stop Kento, you have to keep going until I either squirt or say the safe word. Can you do that, Baby?" Nanami looks up at your serious face, you really have thought about this quite a bit. He nods his head, sealing the deal. You just stare at eachother for a moment longer, the TV still going in the back. You break out in a smile, unable to keep the semi-serious atmosphere. 
"Can- can we do it now?" You ask the man on the opposite end of the couch while you try and stifle a giggle. 
Nanami smiles and pulls you closer to him by your legs. You yelp as you get yanked into his lap where he attacks your neck with kisses. He hoists you up and starts walking to the bedroom. Once he sets you onto your shared bed, you start removing your shirt and shorts while he rummages in the cupboard for a towel that he puts down on the bed before undressing himself.
You're almost shaking with excitement and anticipation. Nanami sits against the headboard in nothing but his boxers, placing the towel on the bed in front of him. He watches as you turn to him with that sultry look in your eyes. You crawl your way up the bed on all fours until you're right between his muscular thighs. Your hands glide up his thighs and waist, you kiss him with need and he reciprocates. You break the connection to feel yourself up infront of him and sensually take off your bra. You present yourself to him and kiss him again before turning around and pressing your back to his chest. 
His hands go to your waist to gently squeeze and rub there. You spare no flare when taking off your panties and you adjust yourself so that both your legs are wide open, slightly bent and his stronger ones are over yours, forcing them to stay open.
"Put your legs like this so that it stops me from closing mine when it gets too sensitive." 
You say as you help him into the position you want. Nanami chuckles and bends down to say lowly into your ear.
"You really have thought this whole thing through, huh?" 
You flush and nod your head as his hand moves down your body to where you want him the most. His touch is gentle at first, lightly stroking down your clit and lips, gathering wetness with his fingers. He starts to work his finger into you and gently rubs your clit with the other hand, coaxing you to melt into his touch. You start moaning and groaning with the pleasure your wonderful boyfriend is giving you. 
With both his hands working on your pussy so diligently, it's no wonder your first orgasm washes over you pretty quickly. Nanami keeps going at the same steady pace after you cum and it's the first out of the ordinary occurrence in this session. You usually would get a grace period after you cum to come down from the high but you and Nanami have a goal. The fact that you get no chance to come down at all is fucking with your brain and the fucked out feeling is just multiplying every second his strong hands play with your pussy. 
Nanami lays back a bit, forcing you to also lay back and expose yourself a bit more as you begin to writhe and squirm. One hand is still diligently circling your clit as he works his two middle fingers into you, slamming into that perfect spot inside you over and over and over again. You get louder and more frantic as the second orgasm hits you. Your head falls back on Nanamis chest as you groan his name. 
"Uuuuh Fuck! Feels so good Kento, soo good, so good, s' good, s' good, s' gud." You mumble and moan to him. Your second orgasm hits you full force and the pleasure doesn't stop or slow down, in fact it only gets more intense. He doesn't even slow down despite you're kicking legs and bucking hips.
Nanami eventually brings you to a third orgasm, now things really start to feel sensitive and your whines and cries of overstimulation get louder but the man doesn't tire. He keeps going, mumbling things like "Cmon, cmon Love." And "You can do it Darling". 
Before you know it the fourth wave hits you like a train, this is where you get frantically desperate as you realize he isnt even slowing down. You're now actively trying to get out of his iron hold, trying to close your legs just a little but his strong thighs keep you open for him. You're squirming and struggling and crying out.
"Wait wait wait wait!".
Your pussy is so raw and sensitive, you almost beg him to slow down but the man is going even stronger now. He's more precise with his movements, touching all the right spots with just the right amount of force to make you weep. 
"Wait Ken! It's sensitive, stoooop stopstopstop!" You hands go to his to try and make him slow down a little but Nanami isn't having any of that. You set out a goal for yourself and clear rules. He is going to make sure you reach your goals like the good partner he is.
He cages your arms against your chest with one arm hugged around you while the other still goes at your clit, rubbing frantic but deliberate circles into the pink flesh with his callous palm. The wet slick sounds of your pussy being bullied by the man you love are drowned out by the sounds coming from your mouth.
You're screaming now, legs shaking and kicking, not nearly strong enough to budge against Nanami's thick thighs forcing them wide open. Your entire body begins convulsing and spasming, you swear you feel like you're going to pee but you don't even have the mind to be concerned about that. You can only scream an intelligible jumble of pleas at this point as your nails dig into his arm. 
"Cmon Honey, just one more f'me, your doing so well."
The praise makes you go even dumber as you're quickly brought to the end of your rope. The last strand snaps and a tidel wave of violent hot pleasure comes crashing down on your entire being. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your screams turn to silent hiccups and overwhelmed chokes.
Your body convulses violently and your back arches off Nanamis chest as he holds you tightly to his chest. It's by far the most intense orgasm of your life and you don't even register the jet of clear liquid shooting out from you untill you hear Nanamis loud groan at the sight.
"There you go, that's my girl."
You're brought back to earth and let out a long groan as Nanami presses up on the hood of your clit to force more squirt out of you, the feeling is even more euphoric than you thought it could ever be. 
Nanami pats your pussy, making sure he gets every last drop out as your wetness trickles down your pussy and ass onto the towel Nanami set down, which was definitely not enough to keep the bed dry. You drop your body completely limp onto Nanamis chest as you both catch your breath.
Nanami releases your arms and your hand immediately goes to cup your swollen, abused pussy with a whine. Nanami chuckles and runs his hands down your back and around your waist, soothing you, bringing you down gently while mumbling little praises. You curl up on top of him and dig your face into his neck with another small whine. 
"Love you s'much." You mumble into his hot skin. He chuckles at you once again. 
"I love you too, Baby."
-★
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aperrywilliams · 1 month
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From Now On (Spencer Reid x Pregnant!Reader)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Pregnant!Reader.
Summary: After faking his death for seven months, Spencer is back just to find out you’re eight months pregnant. After the initial commotion and your denial, you both step into the apartment you used to share. Things have changed and you must talk about it.
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort. Talking about gunshots, blood, hospitals, faking death, pregnancy symptoms, potential abortion. If I missed something, let me know.
A/N: I’m back! I don't know for how long, but I needed to do something to fight my writer's block. This story can be read independently, but it is the second part of Seven Months.
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The cab ride to your apartment is mainly silent. Your head is tucked into Spencer's shoulder as he rubs your back from time to time. His nose is buried in your hair, inhaling your scent. God, he had missed it so much. He had missed you so much.
And he missed so much of your life in the past seven months. And that scares the shit out of him.
How would he fit into your life now? Does he have any right after faking his death and not telling you anything?
Rossi and Morgan told him you would understand eventually. That you would forgive him for doing this to you.
And maybe you are really considering. Maybe that’s why you went for him to Derek’s in the middle of the night.
Spencer wants that more than anything, but he feels like he doesn't deserve your forgiveness.
Now you both are in front of your building complex. The one that used to be his too.
Spencer knows the concrete walls are the same, but they don't feel like they are.
It's a strange feeling. A feeling that gets stronger when you open the apartment door.
Stepping inside, he knows this is where he used to live, but it doesn't look the same.
The shelves are no longer full of his books. Gone is his globe and coins collection that usually laid over the desk. There are just a couple of pictures of him with you on the wall. The decoration is different. Did you paint the place? Spencer is almost sure of that because it looks brighter than he remembered.
He's silent, inspecting everything around him. The walls, the bookshelf, the furniture: all changed.
After you take off your coat and hang it on the rack, your eyes follow him.
You know what’s going on. You have known Spencer for so long. Even if you thought you lost him, you still can read him like a book.
“Hope isn’t look too bad. I needed to, you know, make some changes?” you explain, not sure how to put the last months in words. Spencer turns to look at you, guilt written over his face. He knows what your words imply and remorse eats him alive.
“I - I’m sorry,” he mumbles, sure it's not enough to erase the hell you have been through since he were gone. Since they told you he was dead.
“I know.” Your response is short but not because you don’t have things to say. It's because you don’t know how to start. “Uh. Would you like some tea?”
It's the safest path. The one you both usually have taken the times you had fought and then try to speak it off. It's different this time, though.
Spencer hesitates. In other circumstances, he would agree and sit on the couch to talk. But it's late, the day has been a rollercoaster and you are eight months pregnant. He knows you should be sleeping, or resting at the very least.
“Maybe it's better you go to bed? It's late and you must be tired,” he points, nervously fidgeting with his hands, his gaze shifts between your eyes and belly.
“Honestly? I don't think I could sleep tonight even if I try,” you confess, moving to the kitchen to put the kettle.
”I don't think I could sleep either,” he admits, following to the kitchen. He wants to help, but he doesn’t want to look like an intruder in your space. A space that it’s not his anymore. Noticing Spencer doesn't know what to do with himself, you invited him to take a seat on the barstool.
“It will be ready in no time, don’t worry.”
You are the one who endured months of grief from your fiancee, carrying his child, and you are the one comforting him. Spencer thinks it's not fair.
In silence, he looks with raptor fascination at the way you move around the kitchen. It's delicate and calm. You have a glow that captivates him. You don’t realize his gaze until you turn to put the mugs over the counter.
“What?” you question softly.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, eyes entranced in you. You laugh, shaking your head.
“Come on, Spencer. I look like a mess. This belly reaches everything minutes before I can. It's huge! I can barely walk decently. Look at my hair! And my skin. It's sticky all the time.”
As you ramble about why isn’t accurate to call you beautiful, Spencer stands from the stool and rounds the kitchen counter to step in front of you. He wants to reach for your hands that you’re waving in the air to emphasize your point, but refrains. He’s still unsure about initiating physical contact. He rests his hands on the counter and clears his throat.
“I can certainly say it's not the way you are used to feeling. But the way I see you right now? I see beauty, power, and life. It's light what I see on you.”
You don’t know when tears started to roll down your cheeks. But hearing the adoration in Spencer’s words only spurs you to let out your emotions.
“You know my hormones have been doing a number on me, right? You’re not helping,” you complain, chuckling. After handing Spencer his tea, you take yours and walk to the living room.
You carefully sit on the couch and reach for the blanket in the back to cover your lower half. Spencer mimics your actions, sitting as well on the couch, but at a safe distance from you.
A silence envelops the room. Your hand plays with the strands at the end of the blanket, and your eyes scrutiny Spencer’s face. He looks tired, with prominent circles under his eyes, and stubble for days of no shaving.
He is analyzing you too. Even if your eyes denote exhaustion, he can see the strength that makes you look put together despite everything that has been going on.
He can see the protectiveness too. Rubbing your belly in soothing motions, shielding your non-born child from the unknown, the uncertain.
How much he would have given to be the one who could have protected you and the baby from the first minute.
“I guess you have questions,” you prompt. “But I have mine too, so if you don’t mind,” you trail off and Spencer understands what you want. He nods, preparing himself to answer whatever question you have. After a pause to collect your thoughts, you start to speak again.
“What really happened in that warehouse? Why you didn't let me go inside with you?”
You are talking about the day Spencer was shot and beaten for the unsub. The day he ended up at the hospital just to be declared dead hours after.
“I thought if we didn't split we could lose him. We were so close so many times. I thought it was our last chance. It never occurred to me it was a trap. That he wanted me there alone. I just didn't see it,” Spencer swallowed hard, remembering that day. You stayed in silence, waiting for him to continue.
“I heard his voice telling me he had you, and I panicked. So I ran to him. I let my guard down. When I realized he was lying it was too late.”
“But you launched at him. Why didn't you try to stall him first?” You asked, leaving your mug on the coffee table, feeling the suddenly urge to protect yourself with your arms around you. You never talked about what really happened with anyone. Not even to Hotch when he questioned you during the FBI investigation of the incident.
The way Spencer reacted with the unsub is something you never understood. The profile said the unsub was a guy who liked to show off, so trying to incite him to do that while waiting for backup would have been reasonable.
“The way he laughed. Maybe sounds stupid, but- I saw the resolve of an end game, and not like the typical bragging-end game, it was an evil-end game. He had the upper hand and he knew it. If I didn't do something first, he would have gone after you. And I couldn't let that happen. I didn't count on the hidden gun, though. Another mistake,” he breaths out.
You remember like it was yesterday rushing to the warehouse after hearing two gunshots. Once inside you saw Spencer lying on the floor, in a pool of blood.
“You were there and I didn't know what to do,” you recount your side of the story. “It was the worst nightmare. I screamed for help and it felt like an eternity before someone came to us. And your eyes-” You stop for a second, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. “You - you were saying goodbye and I wasn’t ready.”
Your resolve from earlier seems to crumble as you revisit what happened in that warehouse. Tears are now rolling down your cheeks, and you bite your bottom lip to stop their quivering.
Spencer wants to hold you, but he’s afraid of how you would react, so tentatively rests his hand on your knee. You are shaking and he’s worried this conversation could do more harm than good.
“We can stop. You are not feeling okay,” he points out. But despite Spencer's apprehensions, this conversation must happen now.
“I need to get this out of my chest. Please, let me do this. I know you need it too.”
Spencer knows you are right. You both need this.
“Do you remember anything after the shots?” you ask, and Spencer thinks for a moment.
“I remember being there, the sharp pain in the chest and my ribs. But most of it is a blur. I remember seeing you there. Crying. God. I hated seeing you cry. I think you held my hand?”
You nodded. “I was so scared, but with you there, I wasn’t anymore. The last thing I remember it’s the guilt of not saying I love you for the last time. I really thought it was the end for me,” he admits, his own tears blurring his sight.
“It was for me, though,” you mumbled, a sad look in your eyes. “I mean, I still had hopes when you were moved to the hospital, but deep down I knew I shouldn’t have had them. And everything shattered when JJ came to the waiting room and told us you didn't make it.”
A heavy sigh escapes from Spencer’s lips. Neither JJ nor Hotch had told him how they let it know the team he was ‘gone.’
“I can’t even imagine - It was unfair to you. And I know no matter what I say it won’t make it better.”
Your thoughts wander to the moment after you heard JJ saying Spencer was dead.
Disbelief. Pain. Denial.
And then, days of numbness.
“You know. I just shut off. I have some flashbacks. Rossi hugging me; Hotch telling me to take all the time I needed; Morgan crying with me.”
It feels weird to recall those memories as yours, like an alternative universe that turned different at the end.
“Where did you go?” Spencer asks. The thought of you in the apartment alone after that breaks his heart.
“Emily took me to her place because I couldn't put a foot here. I stayed with her for a couple of days. She helped me a lot to get through this,” you recognize. And for that, you will always be grateful to her.
You also tell Spencer about how the whole team helped you to make it through the days. Some kind of relief washes over him knowing you didn't face it alone.
He can’t fathom how difficult it was for you, also knowing you were pregnant. And about that...
“When did you find out?” He asks, eyes darting to your belly. You follow his gaze trajectory and a little smile creps on your face.
“Almost a month later. I was feeling sick all the time. Emily pushed me to get checked. They took blood tests and stuff. When they told me I couldn't believe it. For me, it was a twisted joke,” you admit, hanging your head low.
Spencer dreads asking the next question but you already know what is, so you keep talking.
“Yes. I had thought about it. I didn't feel in a good place to be a mom, Spencer. I barely could make it through the days. And having a baby? Fuck, just thinking about it was too much.”
You tell him about how you cried your eyes out. How lost you felt for days. The doubts about the future, but above everything, the protectiveness that aroused in you once the idea settled. Yeah, you couldn’t keep Spencer safe, but you were determined to save the part of him growing in you.
“And seven months later, here I am. About to give birth to our baby,” you conclude, lovingly rubbing your belly.
“It’s weird, you know?” Spencer begins. “The last time I saw you and now. It feels like I lost time. And I know I lost it. It’s just - I never expected to see things so changed. I don’t know how I fit here. What I’m saying doesn’t make any sense right now-” he trails off, darting his gaze to the fidgeting hands on his lap.
He’s been holding back. You notice. Since you both crossed the threshold he has been afraid of invading your personal space, of touching you. Now it makes sense.
“That's why you have been keeping your distance from me?” you ask. Spencer’s eyes quickly flash to you. Guilt is written on his face.
“What?”
Your gaze soften seeing him so stressed by being caught. It's true the past months have been tough for you, but they have been tough for him too. And to see a before and an after so different probably has him reeling.
“Since we put a foot in this apartment you have kept a safe distance. I’m not judging you, I really don’t. I just want to know what’s on your mind right now,” you explain, shifting on the couch to change your position. With an eight-month belly is difficult to be comfy in any position.
Spencer sighs. There are so many things revolving inside his brain that it’s not easy to put them in words.
“When I woke up in a hospital bed in Bethesda, the first thing I looked for was if you were there. But I was alone. A strange feeling squeezed my chest. For a moment I thought -” he pauses to take a breath. “I thought everything had gone wrong and the unsub had hurt you or the team, or both. I was about to freak out when a marshal came and explained to me what happened.”
Spencer recounts how the agent told him about his new destination and how this assignment was for an undetermined time.
“Since then, not a single day passed without the urge to take a plane and come back. To you. But what if I messed up putting you at risk doing so? It was insane to know I was dead for you and I couldn't do anything to fix it.”
“That's why you wrote the letters?” Spencer nodded. In a notepad, he wrote a letter to you every single day since he landed in Paris. He handed you the notepad at the BAU this afternoon before you stormed out, completely shaken and confused.
“I needed to put in words each day without you. I needed to tell you I was there, even if you never could read it.”
His shaky breath forces him to take some seconds to compose himself. You took that as your cue. Shifting again, you scoot a bit closer to him and reach tentatively for his hand, and he clings to it as if his life depended on it.
“And I’m here right now. And so do you,” you squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I’m as scared as you are, but we need to do something to get through this. If it is something you want to do,” you add. Spencer's glassy eyes find yours.
“It's all I want. Maybe it's hard for me to understand I can’t fix something like this, but I want a chance to make us work again. I know I can’t get back time, but if you let me I want to gain back the place I lost the day I gone.”
Spencer’s free hand flies to your cheek to wipe with his thumb the tears you haven’t noticed are falling.
“We can start with something,” you prompt, reaching for a folder resting at the coffee table. After opening it, you produce a bunch of ultrasound pictures and hand them to him. From the first appointment you had, to the last one from a week ago.
Spencer’s eyes sparkle with excitement, seeing every detail and the way the baby has grown in the past months.
Tears fall freely and there is pure emotion that fills his heart.
So many nights you both spent talking about what it would be like to have a baby. How wonderful it would be to see them grow. About what traits they would inherit from each of you.
You smile at the scene unfolding in front of your eyes. It feels so good to see in him the same excitement you have. You both wanted this. And until today you thought only you would get the chance to experience it.
After inspecting and committing to memory each detail from each pic, Spencer’s eyes find yours again.
“Do you know the baby’s-” he trails off. He’s unsure, maybe you didn't want to know or want him to know.
You have known the baby’s gender for a while now but have not told to anyone. From the same folder, you extract an envelope you offer to him. With trembling hands, Spencer takes it and gets the paper from inside. Scanning the words he realizes it is the information of your baby’s gender.
“It's - it's a girl,” he reads aloud with a cracking voice and more tears in his eyes. You nod, your own tears clouding your vision.
“Yes. Do you remember when we talked about having a baby and you told me you wanted a girl? When I found out the gender, I thought about how happy you would have been,” you sniffle, and Spencer reaches for you, now wrapping you in a loving embrace.
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” he repeats over and over, kissing your temple. You close your eyes, losing yourself in his chest, inhaling his scent.
You stay like this for a moment. Contently in each other arms. Spencer still can’t believe he got the chance to hold you again, and you are still assimilating the day’s events. It's unbelievable how everything changed in less than twenty-four hours.
“I love you,” he mumbles in your hair, a hand moving to rub your belly. “And I love you,” he says now, talking to your baby.
“We love you too, Spencer,” you respond, voice thick with emotion. “I never stopped, and we will never stop.”
Parting from your embrace, you get lost in each other's eyes. Communicating without words what this moment means to both of you. Cupping your face, Spencer leans to find your lips with his in a loving kiss. You kiss him back, pouring all your feelings.
It's a new promise of love.
After breaking the kiss, he presses his forehead to yours.
“Will we be okay?” he asks, almost in a whisper.
“From now on, we will be,” you assure him. It feels like you are telling this to yourself too. Maybe you do. Everything still looks messy right now, but life is giving you a second chance, and neither Spencer nor you is willing to let it go.
-----
Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger
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matchingbatbites · 3 months
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praline sweet
Mature | 1.8k | Read on Ao3
This is a belated birthday gift for @tboyeddie! Sorry this took so long, I had like 4 versions of this going at once and couldn't figure out which one to actually use! I wanted to give you something soft, though, so hopefully this fits the bill! <3
CW: Omegaverse, Alpha Eddie, Omega Steve, Pre-heat fluff, Rated mature for a little dirty talk and some indecent thoughts
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The call is unexpected, when it comes. Robin's voice is familiar on the other end of the line, but what she says-
“Hey, Steve hit his pre-heat today, and the party is bringing him stuff to add to his nest, just to make our scents stronger. Pick out a t-shirt or something and bring it over when you have the chance, yeah?”
Eddie blinks, almost pulls the phone away to look at it, make sure it's real, because what?
“I uh, I didn't know Steve was so close to his heat.”
“Yeah, it's kind of early, but he said that's not weird. All you need to worry about is bringing something to add to his nest. Got it, loverboy?”
That's kind of a big deal. Omegas in pre-heat want to be surrounded by the scents of their pack, to have that sense of familiarity as their bodies slowly adjust in preparation for what is basically a three day sex marathon. This is Steve's first heat that Eddie is really aware of. He'd apparently had one a couple of weeks after the spring break from hell, but Eddie had still been hospitalized at that point. 
So now, three months later, Steve's heat seems to be right on time. The fact that he apparently wants Eddie's scent in his nest makes the alpha nearly kick into a purr. It ignites something deeper, too, the desire to bundle Steve up in the nest, to hold him and keep him safe, to stretch him open on the alpha's cock and help him through his heat instead of leaving him to suffer alone-
And yeah, killing that train of thought immediately while he's still on the phone with Steve's best friend. 
“Yeah, sure. I'll head over this afternoon.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Eddie.”
Eddie can't resist bringing a few things with him to Steve's. He grabs a couple of shirts, soft ones he's worn so much that they nearly have holes in them, and an old sweatshirt that used to belong to Wayne, that Eddie snagged for his own not long after he moved in.
Somehow, Eddie makes himself wait until after lunch before he heads to the Harrington house. He's nervous the entire ride over, only because he doesn't know how this is going to go. 
The thing between him and Steve is new, like three-weeks-old new, like only-Robin-knows new. It's a gentle bond built through joking and talking and just spending time together, and it's so, so fragile, at least to Eddie. 
Because Eddie's never dated anyone - much less courted an omega before. What if he fucks it up? What if he does something wrong that makes Steve break up with him and their friendship is ruined and Robin fucking kills him for hurting Steve? Fears that he has yet to voice, that he’s shoved to the back of his mind every time he's seen Steve since they started dating.
He tries to shake it off, but he’s still nervous as he rings the bell, announcing his arrival. It’s not long before the door swings open to reveal Steve on the other side. He looks a bit rumpled and sleepy, like he’d been napping before Eddie showed up, but he chirps when he recognizes the man on his doorstep. 
Eddie grins as Steve blushes at the involuntary reaction, but doesn't comment on it. “Hey, Stevie. Robin said you needed some stuff for your nest, so I brought you a few things.”
The omega seems to melt a bit at the gesture, and the scent of praline pecans fills the entryway as Steve says “Thanks, Eds. You wanna come in?”
Eddie nods and follows Steve inside, waiting briefly for the younger to lock the door behind them before he guides Eddie up the stairs to his room. He passes the clothing over to Steve, who immediately takes one of the shirts and presses it to his face, inhaling Eddie’s own black tea and clove scent.
“I didn’t realize your heat was so close,” Eddie says as he props his hip against the desk, and Steve glances at him as he begins to add the shirt into his nest.
“Yeah, it’s actually early. I was gonna talk to you about it, but I wasn’t expecting it so soon. I, uh. I think being around you made it happen faster.”
Eddie tamps down the alpha pride that swells at the admission, that Steve’s omega is reacting to him, to his presence. “Well, we can talk about it now, if you want?” he asks instead, and Steve turns to look at him, the second shirt in his hands. He wrings it nervously before turning and tucking it into the walls of the nest, a bit closer to the head of it this time - easier to smell. Eddie’s Alpha preens. 
With that task done, Steve takes a breath and turns to face Eddie once again.
“I like you, Eddie. Like a lot. I had some time to get to know you even before we started dating, and I really, really like you. I know we’ve only been together a few weeks, so it feels way too soon to ask you to spend my heat with me - I don’t want you to feel like you have to, just because you’re my alpha - but I’d really love it if you would stay for some of my pre-heat? If you want to, no uh, no pressure or anything.”
His alpha. Steve called Eddie his alpha. 
Eddie’s been so worried, so scared of fucking things up that he’s been taking it slow, carefully feeling out each step before moving on to the next. He hadn’t realized that Steve was so far ahead, that he was already so comfortable with claiming Eddie as his after only a few weeks of dating, not even courting yet. And Eddie wonders-
He’d already been half in love when he asked Steve out. Had Steve felt the same? 
For the first time since he decided to take that chance, to ask Steve on a date, Eddie’s worries disappear as Steve’s claim instantly quells the alpha’s fears. He crosses the room to stand in front of Steve, and can’t resist reaching out to touch him, one hand settling on Steve’s neck and the other on his waist. The omega hums softly and leans into the contact, and Eddie smiles.
“Stevie, sweetheart, honey. I would love to stay with you; for your pre-heat or your full heat, whatever you want.”
Steve blinks at him, hazel eyes wide with surprise. “You don’t have to, Eddie-”
Eddie shakes his head. “I know, but I want to. Gotta make sure my omega is taken care of during his heat, yeah?”
Hands snap to grab Eddie’s shirt as Steve actually trills, the sound high and delighted before it shifts into a pleased purr. Eddie laughs and tugs Steve into a sweet kiss, and feels the vibrations against his hands, his lips. It quickly peters off into a gentle hum as they just stay there, holding each other and trading soft kisses.
“I am a little disappointed,” Steve says after a moment. “I was kind of hoping we could have our first time before my heat hit.”
Eddie shrugs and rubs his thumb over the twin moles on Steve’s cheek. “I mean, we still have a few days, technically. If you're, you know, feeling up to it. If not, our first time doesn't have to be during your heat. I can help you this time without fucking you.”
“You say that, until I’m in the middle of it, crying and begging you to fuck me, to come in me and knock me up.”
And fuck, the mental image that conjures up. Eddie takes a deep breath to settle his Alpha, to calm the sudden desire that shoots through him at just the thought of it. The scent of sweet praline floods his senses, and he can practically taste the teasing undertone as Steve grins at him, clearly aware of what he’s doing.
Eddie gives a playful growl and goes to respond, but is cut off when Steve's hand shoots up to his face, covering his mouth as he yawns wide. He forgot that Steve had been sleeping when he showed up, and probably hasn’t slept enough to satisfy his instincts. 
“Is this what the next few days are gonna be like? Lots of naps?”
“Not just naps. There’s also cramps and snacking,” Steve corrects, and Eddie just shakes his head fondly. He reaches over to grab the sweatshirt and passes it to Steve. “Well, let’s get you back to bed, then. I need to run back home and grab some stuff since I’m staying, and I’ll feel better knowing you’re all cozied up and safe.”
Steve smiles, something soft and gooey, but as he takes the sweatshirt and holds it up, reading the logo on it, it shifts. He looks at Eddie, unimpressed but with a teasing shine in his eyes as he says “Atlanta Braves? Really?”
Eddie just shrugs and doesn’t bother to hide his grin. “Wayne's from Georgia.”
The omega just shakes his head before pulling off the sweater he’s currently wearing and slipping on the navy sweatshirt. “This feels wrong,” he says even as he tucks his nose into the collar, eyes fluttering as he inhales the alpha’s scent, and Eddie chuckles.
“I’m sure the Cubbies will forgive you this one time, sugar.”
Steve rolls his eyes but smiles as he climbs into the nest, and Eddie watches as he bundles himself up in the soft blankets. He looks so fucking cozy, and the alpha can’t resist leaning down to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I'll be back soon, okay?” he says, earning a soft chirp from the sleepy omega.
It only takes Eddie about half an hour to collect what he needs and get back to the Harrington house, and Steve is still asleep when he makes his way back into the bedroom. He toes off his shoes and shakes the omega gently, trying to wake him as carefully as possible.
“Stevie?” he says and gets a soft grumble in response. Eddie huffs a laugh and tries again. “Baby, I’m not gonna get in your nest without permission. You gotta invite me in, sweetheart.”
Some part of Steve’s sleepy mind must recognize what Eddie’s asking, because a hand appears from the mess of blankets to grab Eddie’s shirt and tugs him closer. The alpha smiles and lets himself be pulled forward until he’s laying with Steve, their arms wrapped around each other and Steve’s face pressed into his neck.
Eddie’s purr rumbles low in his chest as he starts to doze, and the room is flooded with the scent of spiced pecans and home.
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kremlin · 2 months
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@wikwalker hi sure yes anything to give me an excuse to procrastinate the post i should be writing right now. here are all teh drugs and how to manage them. you can trust me, a drug addict
first of all: https://www.erowid.org/ , erowid always
don't be afraid of drugs, if they're the right drugs, you should do them since they will be a blast regardless and overcoming fear is also good (but outside the scope here)
OK to do as much as you want: alcohol - social benefit greatly outweighs health effects, no reason to avoid if predisposed to abuse since that'll happen sooner or later. what can i say? don't be a fucking dork. when you start drinking, really overdo it as much as possible without dying and get a few real nasty hangovers under your belt so you know how much is the right amount to drink.
weed - innocuous enough to be fine but will make you stupid in the long term. make sure to only buy from a real drug dealer and never some legal institution. cut it out when you're a "real adult". don't smoke weed and watch TV routinely, go out and do things so you naturally grow to hate it. good to go through this as early as possible to minimize the time you spend as a cringe weed enthusiast
i guess those are the only two.
ok to do infrequently (annually): "lsd" - or whatever it is, probably not lsd, blah blah blah, if it works and is sold on blotter its fine and won't make you go nuts or whatever. opt for a better psychadelic imo. see psych rule at bottom of section
mushrooms - better than acid since you know what they are. rule of thumb is to always do more than you think you want. minimum 1/8oz. see psych rule at bottom of post
dmt - if you somehow have a dmt hookup you don't need to be reading any of this. lasts 10 minutes which leads to tendency to way overdo it, don't do this, my favorite webcomic artist is permanently crazy from exactly that. using a crack pipe is also not the uhhhh most dignifying-feeling thing to do either. it's harder than you think.
mdma - for use at electronic music event or rave. overuse causes brain lesions or something.
coke - wait until you're in your 20s, have maxed out your roth IRA for a couple of years in a row, and havent missed a car payment in a similar timeframe. better still if you've worked a very shitty low paying job and know the value of a dollar. if you still find yourself buying candy you're not ready. too expensive to be worth it to get hooked on. know that you are VERY ANNOYING to anyone who also isn't high. don't fuck around with the guy selling it to you. avoid discussing or thinking about business ideas. you can't afford to make it a habit + kinda turns you into a piece of shit after a while, but at least a very interesting one
ketamine - another sick drug that rules, but save it for a special occasion. don't try and go into the k-hole your first time
rule for psychedelics - you get one good strong trip a year and that's it, make it count, always opt for doing a bit more than a bit less. but don't make it a habit, otherwise you turn into a very stupid very annoying "hippy" style cliché and believe in ghosts, aliens, crap like that.
ok to try once prescription opiates/benzodiazepine (xanax), valium, this kind of shit - worth trying so you can go "holy shit, this stuff is way way way too good to ever use responsibly" and then never do again. especially if you're white. for some reason we just can't handle this shit. if a doctor prescribes it to you, idk, that's your call to make.
ayhuasca - this is just dmt in a different form. do some other psychadelics a number of times before you do this. once you realize the whole "substantial visual hallucinations" thing is made up, its time. do exactly this: -buy root online (legal). receive box of dirt -boil dirt into "tea" (read erowid for exact recipe) -take over-the-counter anti nausea medicine or anything that will give you a stronger stomach -drink tea (its nasty as fuck, get it down quick) -have someone bigger than you keep an eye on you for the next five hours. -have the experience, which is absurdly intense, has no bearing to the real world, etc etc. don't be a bitch and throw up, if you do it'll only last an hour or so. again there is no way to provide a consistent description of the experience except that you will meet god. you only ever need to do this once and never again. trust me
peyote/salvia/etc - try em if you want, you'll never ever want to again afterwords. these are drugs for idiot teenagers too lame to get real drugs. imagine being very very sick from poison and utterly terrified at the same time. No good
whippets/nitrous oxide - just find a dentist that uses it and don't bother creating hundreds of pounds of trash on your floor for this crap that lasts ten seconds. you have to understand the extremely short timeframe coupled with the cost makes zero sense. go to a phish concert parking lot and do some people watching -- you do not want to be these people. only use is as a motivator to get routine dental exam. also if you somehow manage to make it a heavy habit your fucking legs stop working, no shit, but they start working again once you quit.
don't ever do heroin/meth/pcp - is is truly a mystery why you should never do these 🙄
synthetic weed/k2/shit from the gas station - it is so funny that they sell this as "weed that won't pop you on a drug test". its not weed. it is some dubious chemical sprayed on yard waste. smoke it to have a terrible time and go nuts. only buy drugs from legitimate drug dealers!
kratom - anyone's guess as to why this is legal but it's heroin for pussies. its still heroin
dxm/cough syrup - do you ever wonder why it is exclusively teenagers robotripping? it's because it sucks ass. is like a cheesegrater on your brain in terms of health effects with repeated usage. you're better than this king
inhalants - these are at the bottom of the list for a reason. do not huff gas. don't huff paint. do not consume computer duster. not fun + fastest way to make yourself a complete, uh, (word i can't say anymore) and then dead
not listed quaaludes- unavailable due to no longer being manufactured. these ruled apparantly
sincis2c - unavailable due to not existing, i just made this up
amphetamines - cannot provide objective take here. they're my albatross, lifelong (posted 4:55am natch)
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zepskies · 9 months
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This is more of a Sam and Dean request than a reader and Dean request but what about Sam having a crush on Dean's gf? How would he react to that, I am honestly CRAVING angst and this is the angstiest, is that a word, thing I could think of, I am so sorry if you don't like angst or this makes you uncomfortable!!!
Oh my God. You killed me with this one, hun. 😫😫 I have another SB imagine coming next week, but I thought I'd put out this one for Dean to break it up a bit.
Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, one-sided Sam W. x Reader Word Count: 1,500
Imagine: You are Dean's one exception.
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Sam knows it's wrong.
You're smart, with a degree in history that aids them well on hunts.
You're sharp, with a smart mouth that rivals Dean's (and keeps him on his toes).
But you're also kind. You take care of him and Dean with all the feminine grace and care they've never had in their lives.
Sam realizes it when he's up until 3 a.m. in the bunker's War Room. He's sat at the table, researching, eyes bleary, hands cramping from turning pages. And he finds a mug of hot tea sliding next to his idle hand on the table.
You're there with a smile and a hand on his shoulder. "Workin' hard or hardly working?"
Sam clears his throat and nods, chuckles a little. "I'm good." He eyes the mug. "Thanks, though I might need something stronger."
You eye him with gentle reproach. "Nope. Green tea is better for you this late at night. You really should go to sleep, Sam."
Sam tacitly agrees, but only because he can feel the warmth of your hand through his clothing, and it makes his face warmer than the tea. He watches you walk away, notices the curve of your ass in those little shorts. He can imagine your warm hands on his body, caressing him. He can imagine letting his lips graze your skin, exploring you, then devouring you.
And that's when his thoughts stutter to a halt. Sam inwardly cringes.
Despite his sleep-deprived brain, he's reminded that you're traveling down the hall to the room you share with his brother, and for Sam, it's nothing short of torture.
Because he realizes then that he isn't just fond of you. He doesn't love you like an older brother, or even a quasi-brother-in-law. He wants you.
Again, Sam knows it's wrong...but he can't help it. It's one of the saddest cliches in the fucking book. You're his brother's girl, and he wants you for himself.
And it's getting harder to hide it from Dean. They know each other too well -- a result of having no one but each other, but more practically, having lived in such close quarters for so long before they discovered the bunker.
When Sam gets hurt on a hunt, the cut is at a bad angle. He can't quite reach, so you dutifully come around and gently move his hand out of the way to do the stitch yourself. You tsk at him in playful disappointment. "I swear, it's a wonder you and Dean aren't walking patchwork quilts at this point."
Sam chuckles through his nose, wincing when the movement pulls on the stitch. You shoot him a stern look. "Stop moving."
"You're the one making me laugh!" he says, smiling incredulously.
"I don't accept excuses," you retort. "Keep still, please."
"Yes, ma'am," Sam says, his breath hitching for a different reason as he feels your soft hands along his side. He plays it off as pain. "Sorry," you murmur more sincerely. He tells you it's okay. His gaze flicks up, unconsciously finding Dean's face across the room.
He's just finished cleaning a cut on his hand. But he's been watching; Sam can tell. Dean's too perceptive not to notice Sam's discomfort. He probably even knows why. Sam can see a glint of it in Dean's eyes, the stoic front of his face.
"There we go!" you say in satisfaction, and you pat Sam's bare arm. He gives you a wan smile. "Thanks."
"You done, sweetheart?" Dean asks. You get up from your seat by Sam. "What do you need?" you ask.
"You. Come 'ere," he says with a smile, giving you a beckoning finger. "I felt that knot on the back of your head earlier. Think you're slick?"
You huff, but you also smile, in the way you only do for Dean. Sam watches you get up and go to Dean, who touches your cheek, stroking with a thumb first. Then he parts your hair to inspect the back of your head, and you wince a bit. You did fall pretty hard, now that Sam thinks of it. He frowns.
Dean lets out a deep breath. "You've got a nasty bump. You're taking it easy tonight, got it?"
"Yeah? Gonna help me relax?" you whisper. But Sam still hears you, because apparently no one taught you how the hell to whisper.
Dean smirks. "Watch it. I'll think you're flirting with me."
You give him a coy smile as your hand travels up his chest, between the open edges of his plaid shirt, then all the way down, to tease at his belt. "Believe me, when I do, you'll be the first one to know."
Dean's smirk deepens, but his eyes are softer. He closes a hand around yours and brings it to his lips. You lean up and request, wordlessly, for a kiss. Dean obliges you, capturing your lips with a soft kiss.
He eventually breaks from you, only to press his lips to your forehead next, closing his eyes with a sigh. He doesn't like it when you try to hide your injuries from him. You just don't want him to worry so much.
You smile and rest against his chest afterwards. It's clear as day what your heart holds.
It's hard for Sam to watch. His throat constricts, but he takes pains to avert his gaze.
He's so full to the brim with this that he sees no other recourse. He catches Dean alone in the kitchen and tries to make a confession. "Dean, we need to talk."
"Can it wait 'til I'm done?" Dean's plating up some stovetop mac and cheese -- your favorite.
"You're done cooking," Sam points out. Dean looks up at him. "We're doing a little dinner in bed situation. I made her promise to take it easy."
Sam admires the way Dean takes care of you. He really does. But it's also like a small oyster knife twisting in his gut. "Good. I'm glad," is all he says. "Yeah, we can talk later."
"Later" doesn't come for a long time. Weeks, in fact. But every time he tries to broach the problem, Dean finds a way to wiggle out of having the conversation. Always a distraction. A hunt. A fire you almost started in the kitchen. Being "in the middle" of something -- something in the bedroom that you insist needs Dean's immediate attention. Sam gives up for a while after that.
But Winchesters are nothing if not goddamn stubborn. Sam finally catches Dean alone in his room for once. You've gone to the grocery store, leaving the brothers alone in the bunker, but not for long, so Sam needs this chance.
"Dean, can we talk?"
Dean looks up at his brother from where he sits on the edge of his bed. He taps his knee, releases a breath. They both know what this is.
"Are you gonna do more than talk?" Dean asks. It's not what Sam expects. "What?"
"Whatever's on your mind, are you ever gonna do something about it?" Dean asks.
Sam stares back at his brother. He thinks. Hard. He's flipped back and forth for months. If he tells you how he feels, it's over. Things will never be the same between the three of you. It'll confuse you. It might even hurt you. It'll hurt Dean. Sam loves you both, if in very different ways.
So Sam is a bit deflated when he raises his resigned gaze and meets his brother's. "No."
After a moment, Dean nods. "Then we've got nothing to talk about."
But... Sam wants not to want you. Not to love you. Deep, deep down, a large chunk of him feels that he shouldn't have to hide himself. That you have a right to know the depths of what he feels, and what he feels for you.
"I see you're not convinced," Dean says dryly. Sam is silent, until Dean sighs and beckons him over. Sam obliges and sits down next to his older brother, the man he's looked up to (at least metaphorically) his whole life.
"I'd give my life for you. You know that. Right, Sammy?" Dean says. "If I couldn't tear the world apart, I'd lay myself out flat."
Sam sighs. "Dean..." Of fucking course he knows that. Dean already had given his life for him once. Remembering that only adds to Sam's guilt.
Dean meets Sam's gaze directly then. "But this is where I draw the line. She's my line," he says. His face is almost stoic, but his eyes are filled with unyielding fire. "I'm not layin' down on that. Not for you. Not for anyone."
Sam's heart clenches with every kind of pain, but he's also never respected his brother more. He nods. "I get it."
"No, you really fucking don't," Dean says. He's more than serious. "I mean it, Sam. I'll break your damn nose."
After a long moment, Sam nods. He knew Dean loved you. Of course he did. But this is the first time Sam truly understands how deeply. How completely. It's more than jealousy can fathom.
Sam realizes then that he lost, even before he began.
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AN: Whew! 😮‍💨 I got way deeper into this than I expected to. Poor Sam. 😭 But I hope this scratched your angsty itch, my dear!
Read the Sequel
Here's the requested sequel to this: Sam crosses the line.
Also, if you want to read the reverse of this (Dean is in love with Sam's girlfriend): Dean gives you an impossible choice.
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tcfactory · 5 months
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Since my brain has been full of SVSSS brainrot lately:
I want a fic where the transmigration mostly fails and Shen Jiu wakes up from his qi deviation as User002 with the goddamn System treating him like he is Shen Yuan. Trashy yellow book what??? No, he doesn't need stats on his fellow peak lords, if he is supposed to follow a plot then he wants to see the script! You wretched floating rectangle, how is he supposed to play along if he doesn't know the source material?!
The stress of having what feels like a very pushy curse or an insanely weird demon inflicted upon him makes him deviate from some minor plot points and he gets punished for being OOC a couple of times until the System takes pity on him and directs him to Airplane bro, with the very clear suggestion that if he can't remember the early arcs of the story - System understands, User! It's very long after all. UwU - he should go and discuss it with the author.
He basically kicks down Shang Qinghua's door in desperation for some clarity and maybe an explanation, right now before he works himself into a stress-induced qi deviation, Shang-shidi. Shang hamster looks at his miserable scum villain, takes a deep breath, brings out all of Shen Qingqiu's favorite snacks that nobody should know about, makes a pot of calming tea and tells him everything.
Shang Qinghua expects Shen Qingqiu to be angry, to rip into him for writing him into this wretched life. And Shen Jiu is angry, but not at Qinghua. His anxious, mousy little shidi who lives his entire life under the looming threat of a horrible, seemingly unchangeable future doesn't look like a god. Shang Qinghua, who does his best to run his peak well and look out for his disciples despite his admittance that in the story the original Qinghua did a shoddy job - he doesn't look like someone who would have put pen to paper and written a tragedy if he knew it would become someone's reality.
And how could Shen Jiu, who has seen people sell their bodies and their very dignity for a cup of stale water, judge someone for writing a very bad yellow book so he can eat? Please. Peak Lord Shen might have developed a very discerning taste in literature over the years, but you can't fill your stomach with artistic integrity, Shang-shidi. Shen Jiu understands.
So they sit and for that first evening, Shen Qingqiu listens to all the differences creeping into the story, Shang Qinghua's retelling of the drafts he abandoned due to peer pressure, the long rambling tangents of the research he's done, even if they never made it into the story. Qinghua is so caught up in having someone to talk to that he doesn't realize that Shen Qingqiu put everything that happened to Qi-ge together, somewhere between the musings about how a sword inspired by kintsugi would be so cool looking, shame that nobody ever sees the thing, and the griping about how much one of his patrons complained about Yue Qingyuan dying without ever drawing his sword.
Later, when the snacks are gone and the tea is replaced with something stronger, he tells Shen Qingqiu about the stories he really wanted to write. About how he shamefully sneaked his dream man into PIDW, just so he could have some small part to himself, and oh, Shen Qingqiu will have to remind him about demon courting practices when they are both sober again, because it sounds like that Mobei prince is down bad for him.
He leaves that night with a newfound determination. Shang Qinghua might be resigned to the whims of his System and the shackles of the Plot, but Shen Jiu didn't burn the Qiu manor down and break his chains to give up so easily. This is his world, his sect, his Qi-ge on the line, and he would sooner wrest control from the System and become custodian of the world himself than let something take away and ruin what is his. He is the strategist of Cang Qiong Sect, there is no situation he can't think a way out of and he has had enough of tragedies.
Before any of that, however, he needs to go and have a good yell at his Qi-ge, smack his stupid face and then curl up in his arms for a good night's sleep. It's long overdue.
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highvern · 6 months
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Jealousy
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x reader
Genre: angst? humor, idiots in love
Warnings: jealous reader, mingyu is kinda an fboy but not really, Seungkwan is a readerxmingyu stan, alcohol mention
Length: ~1.5k
Note: another Drunk Goggles prequel! its a twin piece to bite the bullet bc they're both dumb jealous idiots but this is still very early on in their relationship.
If looks could kill then the nameless girl chatting with Mingyu at the bar, tracing her manicured nails down his bicep as she giggles obscenely, would be six feet under by now. 
She technically isn’t doing anything wrong; you and Mingyu aren’t a couple, you have no right to be upset when someone flirts with him. It's a given that someone as handsome and charming as him has a line of people bidding for his attention. But it doesn’t stop your mood from turning to shit when it happens. Frowning into your watered down drink, you swallow the remaining liquid, wincing against the bitterness. If you’re gonna watch people throw themselves at him tonight you’re definitely going to need something stronger than what’s in your cup.
You make your way to the far end of the bar, away from Mingyu and his new “friend,” ordering yourself two shots of tequila to extinguish the fury igniting your veins. The burn of liquor hurts far less than what you witness from the corner of your eye. Mingyu’s back is to you, obscuring his face but not the face of Yeji or Yeri or whatever her name was. She’s smiling at him coyly, blinking up from under her lashes as she leans a little too far into his personal bubble. Mingyu is an idiot if he can’t tell how much this girl wants him to take her home. Her less than subtle squeeze of his bicep sends your eyes rolling and an indignant scoff living your throat. You’ve seen more than enough.
Pushing away from the sticky wooden surface with a new drink in your hand, you creep back towards the table your friends are spread around. Luckily, most are either caught in conversation and don’t notice your tense expression or they’re kind enough to ignore it.
Keyword: most.
Jihyo hones in on your attitude change in zero seconds. And because she is about as subtle as a bull in a China shop, she jumps up to snag your hand and pull you towards the bathroom without a word before anyone else can say anything (re: Seungkwan who is about to kick Mingyu’s ass on your behalf).
“Mingyu’s an idiot.” Jihyo states calmly once she’s locked the door. 
She watched Yerin approach Mingyu at the bar and knew the second you saw there would be a meltdown. Jihyo won’t judge you, she never does. But she will wring Mingyu’s neck the next time he comes to her for advice about you. This was definitely not something she would have suggested to him.
“I’m not upset!” You cry, but it’s no use.
“Oh please,” she snorts. “I saw you at the bars. You only drink tequila when your feelings are hurt.”
“He can do what he wants, it’s not like we’re dating.”
“So? You like him, he likes you. If he’s gonna act like a dick in the meantime then he should have at least done it where you wouldn’t have seen.”
“If he likes me so much, why is he flirting with some girl?” You warble.
The tears forming in the corners of your eyes are sponsored by shitty tequila and a long island iced tea.
"Because he’s a dumbass.” She raises her voice. “He adores you, but he’s a dumbass.”
“He can adore my foot up his ass.”
“He probably would.” She contemplates. 
You snort. Jihyo knows exactly how to make you feel better. 
“If you wanna go home, I’ll come with you. I hate this bar.”
“No you don’t, but I appreciate it.” 
“Alright then, can we please get out of here?” 
“Yeah, it smells like vomit.” Your face twists as you dab away the tears on your cheeks.
“I thought that was just you.”
“I hate you.”
“You love me.” Jihyo argues. “Now, let's go show him what he's missing!”
You raise an eyebrow but leave the cramped space nonetheless.
It's difficult to hide your shock when you approach the table and find Mingyu getting an earful from Seungkwan. You can’t make out what he’s saying but Seungkwan's face is red with either alcohol or anger (probably the latter given the way he’s gripping Mingyu’s collar). Mingyu’s eyes are wide in fear as he’s shaken to and fro by the younger man.
But when Mingyu sees you approach over his friend’s shoulder, the fright melts away, leaving a beaming drunken smile. It’s really hard to be pissed off when he looks like a puppy whose owner just came home. Seungkwan looks around to see what interrupted his lecture to find you staring inquisitively, to which he just rolls his eyes before settling back in his seat, diving into the heated exchange between Jeonghan and Chan.
Mingyu throws an arm around the back of your chair after you settle next to him. His fingertips trace the peak of skin next to the strap of your tank top, raising goosebumps and evaporating the rigidness in your posture immediately. Damn him.
“Missed you.” He mumbles close to your ear.
This time your eye roll is obvious. Mingyu thinks you're being playful but you remember how he was pinned to the bar only a few minutes ago and steam is threatening to pour out your ears again.
“Seems like you had decent company.” Your words are pointed and the way his eyes grow wide and his smile drops almost makes you feel guilty.
“Yerin?” He furrows his brows, “She was nice but not really my type.”
“Pretty girls aren’t your type?”
“Not when they aren’t you.” 
The smirk on his face is lazy and confident. Knowing Mingyu, he’d high five himself if he was less trashed. 
A cough covers what suspiciously sounds like a snort on the other side of his seat where Seungkwan is.
You bite your tongue against the scoff in the back of your throat. Mingyu’s got balls, you’ll give him that. But if he thinks he can flirt with you right after letting someone feel him up where everyone can see then he has another thing coming.
“You think I’m pretty, Gyu?” Your voice is sickeningly sweet, encouraging Mingyu to fall into your trap.
You turn towards him, letting your eyelids lower and lips pout. One of your hands drops to his thigh as you twist to see him better. It's exactly what Yerin was doing to him earlier but you can immediately tell that he is much more receptive to your antics than he was to hers.
The shock on Mingyu’s face makes you wish for a camera. It’s an effort to keep from laughing when his jaw falls open as his gaze follows the pattern your hand traces on his knee. You’ve never touched him like this before, but if this is how he reacts you’re more than happy to continue.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “The prettiest.”
You hum in acknowledgement. Mingyu is free flowing with compliments whether he’s drunk or sober but it always leaves you breathless. 
“Prettier than Yerin?” It’s petty but you’re feeling the shots you downed and logical thought isn’t your priority.
His face has moved into the crook of your neck, chin resting gently on your collarbone, sigh ruffling your hair as he gets cozy in the warm space and allows his nose to trace the curve of your shoulder.
“Absolutely.” His lips tracing the word on your skin makes you shiver.
“Then why’d you spend all night talking to her instead of me?”
Disappointment seeps into your voice; as much as you deny it, he’s hurt your feelings and wounded your pride.
“I—,” Mingyu swallows.
“Hmm?” You’re being mean but he started it.
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize,” you coo in his ear. “Looked like you were having fun.”
“Have more fun with you.” He’s stuttering, flustered at how easily the words slip from between his lips.
“Where’d she go anyway?” You turn your head to locate her but she's nowhere to be seen.
“Don’t know,” Mingy rasps, mind focusing more on the way your nails tickle the inside of his knee through the fabric of his jeans than your questions. “Don’t care.”
“Don’t be mean.” You chide.
“I really don’t though.” 
“Well, Jihyo and I were thinking about heading out.” You feign a yawn. “It’s late.”
At the sound of your threat, Mingyu is immediately up out of your neck and staring at you with puppy eyes. 
“But you just sat down!” He pouts.
“I’ve been here for hours.” You mirror his expression. “I’m tired, Gyu.”
“I haven’t gotten to talk to you all night!”
Hook.
“Maybe you can talk to Yerin again.” You smile with venom in your eyes.
Line.
The shock on Mingyu’s face informs you that he is now realizing how much he fucked up. 
Sinker.
“Bye, Gyu.” You coo sweetly, giving his thigh one last squeeze.
Jihyo watched the entire scene play out much to her own horror. She’s ready to go the second you stand, preparing the lecture of a lifetime once you're on the way home. But the shit eating grin on your face makes her proud.
What you two don't see is Seungkwan leaning over to whisper a “told you so” in Mingyu’s directions as they both watch you walk towards the exit and into the night.
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lazycats-stuff · 4 months
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Hi, this is my first time asking here I really love your work and also the whole reason me going into the DC fandom really... Anyway, back to my request can you do like a fluffy interaction with the batfamily when child (male or gn) reader told them that they had a "boyfriend" at school.
Not entirely sure if this is really you're cup of tea and if not you can ignore it.
:D
Oh this is my cup of tea, don't worry. And I got you into DC fandom? I hope you like the fandom so far.
Summary: (Y/N) is slowly growing up. Bruce and the others can't handle it.
Warnings: fluff, Bruce and everyone is emotional, just pure fluff everyone, Titus makes an appearance
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The family has been going through a rather tough time recently. (Y/N) has started going to kindergarten and they couldn't see him for almost the entire day. Bruce knew it was important that (Y/N) starts socializing with children his age.
Bruce knew that is was important for (Y/N) to do it and he needs to get over all the child sicknesses. Such as chicken pox and some others. It would build his immunity system and make him stronger. And it was difficult the first day.
Everyone was emotional that first day. All of them barley kept it together as they walked (Y/N) to the kindergarten, more so to the place where he would be spending time until he needs to go to elementary school.
(Y/N) was nervous at first, but Bruce assured him how they would be back to get him back. The brothers all said goodbye and nearly broke down when (Y/N) left and everyone, including Alfred broke down in the car.
" He is growing up so quickly. " Jason said as he was wiping his eyes, trying not to cry fully.
" I know. " Dick said, not even keeping his cool anymore. Bruce and Damian didn't cry, but they were definitely sad about the fact that they couldn't see their brother anyone. Tim was just quiet as he sniffed quietly and Alfred simply looked ahead, outright refusing to cry.
Everyone went on with their days and once they were done with work or school, they would pick up (Y/N). (Y/N) was happy to his family once more and he just wanted a hug from his dad.
And he wanted to be carried by his dad. It was their tradition after all. Soon, Bruce had to update the list of people who could pick him up and included everyone in the family, besides Damian. The kindergarten policy made it clear that you needed to present ID every time you want to pick him up.
Bruce had to admit, he was impressed with the sheer security of the kindergarten and the way that they made sure that nobody unauthorized or somebody who had more sinister motives could get in. Thankfully.
(Y/N) has been going for a few months and he liked it very much. He has made a few friends and Bruce couldn't be happier. (Y/N)'s brother's were happy too. (Y/N) was happy, liked going there and had fun.
What more could they ask for? Nothing more.
As long as their brother is happy, so are they.
It was all going to be fine.
Well, that fine turned into pure confusion when (Y/N) was home. It was a Saturday. (Y/N) and the family was having a family night and (Y/N) was watching a movie in his father's lap, enjoying the contact from his father. Bruce covered his son in a blanket, making sure it was warm. It has started snowing a few hours ago and it was perfect.
More importantly, it was peaceful.
Until (Y/N) started to speak.
It was all fine.
" I forgot to tell you something! " (Y/N) declared as he sat up upright. Bruce glanced at (Y/N) and hummed at him, showing him that he had his attention.
" I have a boyfriend! "
Those four words made Bruce's head spin and he swears he hears that he has heard something crash in the kitchen. Jason spat out his water, coughing the rest of it out. Dick wept and Damian froze. Tim blinked a few times.
What the hell?!
" I'm sorry, what do you mean by that? " Bruce asked as he got some of his composure back. (Y/N) smiled widely and Bruce had to make sure he didn't fall down.
" I have a boyfriend! We hold hands and do everything together! " (Y/N) said loudly and Dick wept louder. Jason took a deep breath and Damian blinked a few times. Tim just drank his coffee. Nope. He is too pumped with caffeine to even think about it.
" What's wrong with Dick? " (Y/N) asked, looking at his brother who was weeping. Jason gave Dick a hug and Dick was mumbling the words so quickly and grow up. In not really particular order actually.
" Nothing (Y/N), you know how he gets emotional. " Bruce explained and (Y/N) let out a little huh. Bruce wanted to cry really, but he couldn't. His son was growing up too soon, but growing up is normal.
It's going to happen eventually.
Sooner rather than later.
" Come here. " Dick said as he wiped his eyes. He stood up and took (Y/N) into his arms, hugging him. His brother can't grow up. No. It's completely wrong and not- No.
(Y/N) can't grow up. No.
(Y/N) was confused as to why Dick would cry. Why? Is he sad? Why would be sad?
" Why are you said Dick? " (Y/N) asked and Dick finally found it in himself to chuckle. He gave (Y/N) a kiss on the cheek.
" I'm not sad baby bird. "
" Then why are you crying? When you are sad, you cry. " (Y/N) stated and Dick shook his head fondly.
" Sometimes, when you are so happy, you are so overwhelmed with happiness that you just start crying. " Dick explained and (Y/N) let out a little oh, leaning his head on Dick's shoulder.
Dick sighed as he sat down on the couch and Alfred finally made his way into the the living room.
" Master Bruce, did I hear correctly? Master (Y/N) has a boyfriend? " Alfred asked, clearly not wanting to believe it. His youngest grandson has a boyfriend?
" Yes, (Y/N) has a boyfriend. " Bruce confirmed and Alfred sighed quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose. His grandson will send him to his grave. Early grave, mind you.
Jason sighed as he wanted Dick to hand (Y/N) over to him. His brother can't have a boyfriend now. He is a baby in his eyes and he can't have a boyfriend or a girlfriend for that matter until he is about 30.
That is a reasonable age to have a boyfriend. Right?
" Should I open up the scotch? " Alfred asked and Bruce smiled at the suggestion.
" Later Alfred. "
" As you wish master Bruce. "
" Dad? " (Y/N) asked from Jason's arms and Bruce felt something warm in his heart.
" Yes? "
" Can we go out to play in the snow? Pretty please. " (Y/N) asked and Bruce nodded in agreement.
" Of course we can. But you need to make sure that you are warm. You can't get a cold can you? " Bruce said as he picked (Y/N) up from Jason and (Y/N) let out a little hurray.
" He is too pure for this world. " Damian said once (Y/N) and Bruce left the room to bundle up. and there was something that everyone could agree on. Even Jason and Damian could agree on that phrase.
Titus wagged his tail as he whined for Damian to open the door to the garden. Damian did so and Titus started playing in the snow. It was weird to see such a black mass in the white snow.
Titus almost looked like a demon and then that image was gone when (Y/N) ran over to Titus. Titus was very happy, tail wagging like mad, but still remained calm and gentle with his little brother. Bruce watched as (Y/N) ran around, making angels and throwing snowballs at Bruce.
Titus would also run for snowballs that the two would make, considering that they couldn't find his tennis balls to throw. He was confused at the way the would disappear, but still came back for more.
" Maybe we have overreacted. " Dick said and everyone agreed in a certain way. (Y/N) is a child and he probably doesn't know the meaning of the word. But they know that sooner or later they will have an actual boyfriend on their hands.
Hopefully that will never happen. Hopefully.
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dreamsontheirway · 11 months
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Vanilla Chai | S.R.
Summary: in which reader has the flu and insists that they’re fine. spencer x reader. Warnings: sickness, vomiting, morgue/dead body on a case Word Count: 1.5k
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The sunrise of the early Friday morning shone through your blinds and cast its rays upon your face. You stirred, slowly opening your eyes, then closing them almost as quickly due to the pounding in your head. 
You groaned, squinting to check the time. Fuuuck, you thought. It was well past the time you needed to get up. You would have plenty of time to get ready, but the thought of having to leave your warm, cozy bed was pure torture. 
You reluctantly tore yourself from your bed, shivering when your skin hit the cool air that was once shielded by your tan colored comforter. You made your way to your closet and began the agonizing torture that was preparing for the day.
No matter what, though, you would be going to work. You weren't sick -- you didn't have time to be sick.
You walked into the building with one hand securing your satchel and the other pressing against your temple lightly, attempting to ease the pain radiating through your skull. Tylenol had been fruitless in your attempt to ease the splitting headache plaguing you.
Upon entering the bullpen, you made your way over to your desk, squinting from the bright, harsh LED lights. You plopped down in your desk chair, draping your bag atop the back of it. Before you could even gather your surroundings, a cup from the local coffee shop was placed in front of you.
"Dirty chai," a voice spoke. "With two pumps of vanilla."
Spencer Reid, your boyfriend, your partner in crime - literally. A godsend. If anything could cure you, it was a chai latte.
You looked up at him through heavy eyelids. "You're truly amazing. Thank you."
"My pleasure," he cooed, tucking a stray hair behind your ear and kissing the top of your head as a greeting. Almost as quickly as he touched you, he pulled away.
"You're warm," He stated, matter-of-factly, before returning his hand to your forehead. His brows furrowed in a swirling concoction of confusion and worry.
You waved him off nonchalantly. "I'm fine, don't worry about me. Probably just dehydrated or something." You sipped at your latte, humming contentedly at the sweet, milky liquid.
The young genius was unconvinced and peered at you skeptically through black rimmed glasses. Your favorite. You recalled a moment before you started dating in which you sheepishly admitted how much you liked when he wore them. Spencer had blushed so deeply his face was the shade of a tomato. He had timidly thanked you for the compliment and you had noticed that he wore the glasses much more often after the exchange.
"Have you taken any fever reducer?" Spencer mused, and you hummed again in response, signaling you had, and took another sip of your tea. His brows furrowed again.
"I promise I'm fine, Spence. Now if you don't mind, I've got a lot of paperwork to complete." You smiled softly at the tall man beside you, and he seemed to relax slightly.
"Just," he started. "Just let me know if you need anything, okay? I could pick up some extra strength acetaminophen if you want me to."
"I will let you know. Promise," you smirked at your partner's concern. It was charming, really, but you were fine. Whenever you had been sick in the past, if anything it was merely a nuisance. All it had been was a hinderance preventing you from getting your work done.
Your thought was cut short by another voice speaking. "We've got a case. Conference room in 5." Hotch spoke, his voice embodying its usual firm timbre.
"Duty calls," you joked to Spencer, standing up to begin the trek to the conference room. As you stood, the hammering in your head began again, stronger this time. One hand flew to your temple, rubbing in hopes to soothe it, and the other gripped the edge of your desk.
"Whoa," Spencer reached for you, a hand resting on your waist, squeezing firmly yet also gently. “Do you need to sit?"
You waited a moment, allowing the black veil of dizziness to fade away. "No," you spoke softly. "No, I'm okay. Must've gotten up too fast." You gave him a smile.
Spencer was skeptical, you could read it across his features, of which were twisted up in apprehension. You knew he wasn’t going to let this go.
“C’mon, worry wart.” You both traveled up the stairs to the conference room. Spencer walked behind you, picking up on the fact that you were walking slower than usual. Your steps seemed calculated, ensuring that your feet would land firmly on each step.
You sat down at the round table, Spencer selecting the seat right next to yours. A sigh expelled from your mouth and your eyes closed, attempting to fend off the dizzying feeling that continued to consume you.
Spencer reached you under the table, rubbing his thumb against the lower part of your thigh. Oh how you wanted to curl up with him on the couch, his arms holding you tightly against him… No. You were fine! You needed to concentrate on work. You could rest with Spencer later.
Hotch and the rest of the team entered the room and took their seats. You listened to the case being explained, but your mind continued to drift towards nothingness. You just could not, for the life of you, get yourself to focus.
“Agent Y/L/N?” Hotchner’s voice seemed to be ten times as harsh as usual. God, did he have to talk so loud? Or was it purely the constant amplification of sound that swirled in your head?
“Yes, sorry?” You spoke, but your vision blurred and you started to see two of everything. You closed your eyes tightly, willing the double vision to dissipate. You could feel Spencer's gaze burn into you from your peripheral vision.
“You, Reid, and Prentiss will go to the medical examiner.”
“Yes, sir.”
You were thankful that no further questions were asked about your lack of active listening. You gathered your satchel and additional items in preparation to head out with the rest of the team. Before you could began your descent back down the stairs, a gentle touch laid on your arm.
"Are you sure you're alright? You can go home if you aren't feeling well. Hotch will understand," Spencer's voice soothed you, and pulled you in as if it were suctioning you to him. His fingers rubbed the back of your arm delicately.
Boy, did you want to just go home and cuddle under a blanket and watch your favorite show... No, you could do this. You wanted to be here for this case. Besides, it was Friday. You just needed to get through today and you could enjoy some much needed time off over the weekend.
"Yes, I'll be okay," you assured, leaning yourself into his side slightly. You could smell the scent of chai and cinnamon on him and it was the most comforting scent you could imagine in that moment. Spencer seemed to smell different each day, today it was chai and cinnamon, yesterday it was lavender and chamomile. You looked forward to what tomorrow's fragrance would be.
The drive to the medical examiner's office was largely uneventful. Spencer drove, with you in the passenger's seat, and Emily in the back. The local radio station played softly through the speakers of the van, and Spencer snuck looks at you that you pretended not to notice.
You all made your way inside the building, its walls white and sterile like a hospital. The smell of bleach and cleaning chemicals wafted into your nostrils, and you found yourself craving the aroma of lavender and chamomile.
Prentiss suggested that the two of you go with the medical examiner to gather information about the body. That would leave Spencer to go through the files and reports related to the case. It made sense; Spencer could read through the handful of files in mere minutes. However, he was reluctant. His hazel eyes peered at you, questioning. You just smiled in response, communicating that you would be fine.
The morgue smelled even stronger of bleach and chemicals, and you felt your stomach do flips. The examiner displayed the body for you and Emily to look at. As always, it was a gruesome sight, but you were unfortunately used to it. But, why were you feeling entirely sick to your stomach all of a sudden?
You could feel something in your throat, and you knew you needed to get outside or to a trash can, whichever came first. You dashed towards the back exit so quickly, that you didn't even notice Spencer's worried stare.
Upon seeing your fleeing form, Spencer lightly tossed the files he was skimming onto the mahogany table and quickly bounded toward you. He arrived just in time to hold the heavy door with one hand and gather your hair on your neck with the other.
You heaved, tears burning your eyes. Spencer switched to use his hip to hold open the door and utilized his now free hand to rub circles on your back.
"Let it out," he cooed, continuing the soft, repetitive motion on your back.
"Spencer," you gasped.
"Yeah?"
"I think I'm sick."
-----
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thefiery-phoenix · 1 month
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YANDERE GWAG JICHANG (JICHANG KWAK) HEADCANONS
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The way I SCREAMED like a high school girl with a crush when I first saw this man to literally sobbing my eyes out when he died is unfair...
As a yandere, he might be loving and protective, sure but what he insists upon is discipline from you. He's grown accustomed to taking care of his brothers when they were young and filled in the stern authoritarian role in their lives. You were visiting your grandparents at the countryside and you'd bump into him when he was on his rounds. Of course, the countryside is a small place after all and word travels fast that there's a newcomer around the area and he's curious to see who you are. He'll stride towards you and have a polite smile on his face while his eyes are scanning every inch of your features, trying to figure out who you really are. "Hello...may I help you?" he asked you in a kind voice as you smiled politely at him and explained that you were on your way to see your grandparents. He'd offer to take you there and while he does, he'll strike up a light conversation with you to get to know more about you, asking you about your interests and such 
After you reach your grandparents house, your grandparents are actually quite glad you met Officer Jichang since they trust him and they'll invite him inside for tea. He can barely keep his mind running amok when you changed into a cute summer dress and sputtered slightly as he watched you come down the stairs. However he pretended to clear his throat and regain his composure and continued to sip his tea with a tinge of redness on his cheeks. He'll go back home and shut his eyes to get some rest, his mind filled with thoughts about you. His curiosity of you grows stronger by the day and he's tempted to know more about you. He's the King of Seoul, just because he lives a somewhat quiet life at the countryside that doesn't mean he still doesn't control the streets of Seoul. He'll have someone send in pages and pages of information about you in literally less than an hour and he'll calmly sip some coffee as he reads information regarding you 
He thinks you're a naive sheltered little thing and you need to be protected. When he sees you sitting by a lake in the middle of the night, his heart almost leaps out of his chest from concern and worry for you. Are you always this reckless? Don't you know the dangers of being out so late in the night? Clearly he needs to keep an eye on you to safeguard you and protect you since you're obviously not capable of doing so yourself. He'll have a somewhat stern expression on his face but speak to you in a gentle tone, telling you it's time for you to go back home and it's not up for debate as he drops you off to your grandparents house. The next day when you decide to show up to the station with some cookies and baked goods for him, his expression softens and he feels something warm grow in his chest for you...in just a short while you've managed to make him enamored with you. He'll thank you for the treats, ignoring the teasing from his brothers Jihan and Jibeom nearby 
He'll start stalking you and make it seem like whenever you're out he's out too and he'll pretend to be around the same area as he strikes up a conversation with you. The thought of you interacting with some other man other than him makes him feel displeased. You're a pure innocent little thing, oblivious to your surroundings in his opinion. The other day when you were talking to someone, you failed to notice the way the other man's eyes were trailing down your chest. Jichang was observing you from a distance and gritted his teeth as he clenched his jaw as he pretended to be in the area and managed to divert your attention from the other man. After you left Jichang grabbed the man by his hair and used his signature blade move to his neck which rendered the man screaming and grunting in pain while Jichang just glared at him with a cold expression, his devoid of any mercy since he didn't deserve it 
His feelings for you will start to get worse by the day, they'll start spiraling out of control. He gets more and more possessive of you and he'll start filled your head with slight subtle lies about the people around you, saying they're not to be trusted. He's a cop, why would he lie to you? He's just trying to keep you safe. He uses slight subtle manipulation tactics to make you spend more time with him. What would lead to him kidnapping you? When he feels like you're leaving him. The other day you decided to spring on the news to him that in 2 more days you'd be going back to the city as he frowned slightly and immediately stopped drinking his coffee as he stared at you with an unreadable expression, his soul piercing gaze on you for a few seconds. He plastered a fake smile on his face and invited you over to his house for some dinner to which you agreed. He ended up lacing a small dosage of sleeping pills in your food and yes, he does feel bad for doing that but you can't leave him. You NEED him to protect you, to care for you
You'll wake up on a soft bed as he enters the room and he'll brush the hair strands from your face as he tells you that you won't be leaving anytime soon. If you cry he'll feel bad and soothe you by hugging you and pulling you close to his strong muscular body. If you start having a tantrum and screaming, he'll tell you to quit it and he's doing it for your own good. Escape? From him? Don't be silly, he has his eyes and ears EVERYWHERE, the countryside is a small place after all and not to mention Jihan and Jibeom are always around to keep an eye on you and snitch on you the moment you think of trying to do something. If you do end up managing to escape miraculously, he'll just trace your location and manage to track you down and bring you back home. He won't hurt you physically or yell at you, he's a gentleman after all, he doesn't believe in hurting the one he loves but at the same time you do need to realize you've been a brat and you need to be disciplined so he'll end up scolding you like you were a naughty kid caught doing something wrong 
RIP to those who try taking you away from them, he sees them as a challenge to your love and affection and he despises those annoying pests who try to steal you from him. He won't have any mercy towards such people, one single strike to their neck with his signature blade move would render them paralyzed for the rest of their lives. He likes it when you're doing household chores, it fuels the concept that he's playing the traditional role of a husband and he is a traditional man as well. He'll hug you from behind and cage you in his arms as he gently kisses your soft lips and holds your hand. He likes to hold your hand too, lacing his fingers with yours as his rough large calloused ones envelope your hands, especially in public so people can see you're his and they won't have the guts to take you from him. He also likes doing chivalrous gentlemanly things for you like wrapping his coat around you whenever you feel cold, massaging your hands and legs since he doesn't want you to experience pains, cook for you if you're feeling tired. His favorite thing is to just hold you and have you on his lap while there's some soft music playing in the background like jazz while the two of you sip on tea or coffee, basking in the warmth of each other's embrace 
You're supposed to sleep with him, no sleeping on the couch or ground or any of that nonsense, you're his little spouse and married couples are supposed to sleep together and it's evident he isn't going to budge from that idea. Every night he talks about his day and you talk about yours as he caresses your cheek and softly kisses your lips as you drift off to sleep, his arms holding you securely in place wrapped around your waist. He'll encourage you with whatever you like doing, if you like doing art here are all the art supplies you could ever want. If you like reading books, you'll have new books for you every month. He'll give you whatever you need, except for your freedom of course. Would definitely like to have children with you one day, his brothers can't wait to become uncles to your kids either. He'll do anything to maintain the image and idea of his perfect family vision with you and if he has to resort to getting more blood on his hands he doesn't mind...
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cuubism · 20 days
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some canon-verse trans Hob for the lovely @five-and-dimes who recently got top surgery! 🥳🥰 congratulations, I'm truly so happy for you, my friend. please accept this humble offering
--
“So, it actually started on a dare,” Hob says, on the day he tells Dream the story of him. Or of this part of him, anyway.
Normally, Hob gets a bit guarded the first time he tells someone he’s trans. It’s hard to predict with absolute certainty how people will react, especially ones he’s just become romantically involved with. He’s had it go poorly, to say the least, in the past.
He doesn’t feel that way with Dream. It’s not because there’s so much trust between them—they’re still new, after all. No, it’s something about Dream himself. For all his prickly and standoffish nature, being close to him feels like sinking into a warm lake, into a dark sleep where secrets and hidden wishes float up like glowing reeds to the surface. Deep, personal feelings feel safe with Dream; he cradles them in his hands and soothes them. Or that’s how it feels, when Hob is touching him.
Personification of dreams, indeed.
“A dare?” Dream echoes.
“Sort of," Hob says. "Got frustrated with people saying women should or shouldn’t do this or that or the other thing, so I decided if they felt so strongly about it I’d just be a man. Moved somewhere no one knew me, dressed differently, got stronger, practiced the sword—and that was that. No one seemed to care much, once you were at war. So long as you could swing a sword and not get yourself killed.”
“A choice, then,” Dream says. He’s listening very intently, hands folded on his knees, untouched tea on the coffee table before him.
“At first. Was only after I’d been living that way for a few decades—before and after we met—that I realized while there might be a handful of women out there living as men for the freedom of it, that they didn’t all like it. Given the choice they’d rather just be women in a more equal world. You know?”
Dream hums in understanding.
“But I didn’t want to go back,” Hob continues. “I felt like... who I'd become was the truth of me all along.”
“Identity, while not wholly immutable, is resilient against adversity and circumstance,” says Dream. “You found what your heart wanted you to be, if in a circuitous manner.”
“You seem very unbothered by it,” Hob observes, sipping his tea.
Dream frowns. “Why would I be bothered by it?”
“Dunno.” Apparently he can’t fully shake that this’ll put a wedge in us feeling. “People sometimes are. Feel deceived, or something like that. So they say.”
“If they are deceived, it is by their own assumptions,” Dream says, with disdain. “You should be as you dream yourself, Hob. No more nor less. Put aside these petty physical trappings.”
“I do actually have to live in these ‘physical trappings’ even if you don’t, you silly thing.” He can’t help laughing. “Besides, I rather like being some kind of living creature in the world, rather than what? A ghost? Best I can do is make this body as close to how it should be as possible.”
Hob’s come to like his body, for the most part, in the form that he’s made it. He didn’t always. But he needs a body of some kind to be alive, and he likes being alive. So what he couldn’t change, he made peace with.
Besides, they have hormone treatments nowadays. Brilliant stuff. Makes it so much better.
“Anyway, now you know. I wanted you to. Since we’re together.” It’s still a marvel. Together.
“Thank you,” says Dream, with evident sincerity. “It is a privilege to be gifted your secrets.”
“Not really a secret, but I get what you mean.” He takes Dream’s hand, just to touch him, and admits, “Telling it to you is like… I don’t know. Feels like when I was younger and first admitted out loud, ‘I’m a man. I want to stay like this.’”
It hasn’t been a proper secret in a very long time. But giving it to Dream is like the freedom of releasing a held breath, even so.
“I am the harbor and cradle of dreams,” Dream says in reply. He traces his fingers over Hob’s. Does Dream’s strange form just spring from the ether? Hob wonders. Or does he have to choose it? The way Hob chose his? “Dreams of being and becoming… these are most precious for they grow from tough soil. I can only protect them, I cannot create them. You must do that. And I expect that were I to find you in the Dreaming, there would be a fantastic garden there, indeed.”
Dream himself is the most fantastical thing. “Well, darling, just know your work is appreciated.”
Dream’s lips tip up in a tiny smile. When he meets Hob’s gaze again, his eyes have gone dark and starry. He folds Hob into a hug, and—
oh, it’s like being hugged by the universe itself.
Hob feels the light breeze of a warm dark night, when he’d lain by the dying fire in a war camp in the French countryside, and looked up at a million stars and first whispered to himself what if this is really who I am? Dream is that breeze and those stars. The dying embers that had lit him as he’d run his hands over his body and felt it differently than he ever had before, and been terrified because what would it mean?—but also thrilled and alive. Dream is the night wrapping around him in that moment, the night that was listening to his dreams no matter how quietly he admitted them, Dream is that and more and the voice in his heart telling him it would be okay.
A younger, more uncertain Hob would have needed this. Hob now is older, and he already knows who he is and what he wants, but he falls into Dream’s embrace all the same. A tear slips from his eye, and Dream kisses his cheek, wiping the tear away with his tongue before leaning their heads together.
“I could craft you any body you wanted in the Dreaming,” he says lowly. “However I think the one you have made with your own hands is more remarkable.”
Oh, God, he’s going to tear up again. “Dream, you are the most beautiful, wonderful thing.”
Dream hums in pleasure at the words, and lets Hob hold him close, lets him cradle his head to his chest, a dream kept close to his heart. One that he knew as soon as he saw it walk into the White Horse. Sooner even than he truly knew himself.
Then Dream looks up at him with a hopeful expression. “With these truths revealed, are we able to be intimate?”
Hob laughs so hard he has to tip his head back against the couch. “Wow. One track mind with you, isn’t it? I spill my heart and that’s what I get?”
Dream grumbles, tucking his face in against Hob’s neck to press his lips to Hob’s throat. “I find myself impatient of late.”
“Knew all along you were only with me for my body.” He’s grinning, though. Can’t stop.
“Well. Considering it is such a lovely one.” He plucks at Hob’s shirt buttons. Lecherous little nightmare.
It feels fucking good, though, to be desired.
“C’mere, then,” he says, and drags Dream into his lap.
Dream settles there with a purr, starts playing with Hob’s hair, but says, “I would not truly derail this moment, nor distract from your feelings if you do not wish it.”
“Oh, I wish it. You’ve no idea how much I want you right now. You’re like a prize.” He cradles Dream’s beloved face between his hands. “Stick around for long enough and you’ll get the most incredible Dream at the end of it.”
“Or at the beginning,” Dream says, and Hob’s heart swells so much to hear him voice that that he has to kiss him.
When he does, Dream makes a low, pleased sound, settling deeper in his lap. Yes, this moment, this life, is certainly the prize for all of those years hanging onto those dreams:
the dream of his lover
and the one of himself.
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"I can hear you!"
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PAIRING | Tony Stark x Avenger!Fem!Reader
WORD COUNT | 2.8K
SUMMARY | After a rather intimate moment in the kitchen with Tony, you go to your room to take the edge off for yourself. When he happens to walk by and hear you moan out his name, he can't help himself as he walks in, wanting to give you the pleasure you're so desperately craving from him.
RATING | Explicit (E)
WARNINGS/TAGS | Age gap, mutual pining, friends to lovers, use of nickname (Cupcake)
SMUT | Voyeurism, masturbation, use of vibrator, nipple play, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), cream pie, aftercare
A/N | This one-shot is based on a request I received from a lovely Anon! From the moment I saw this request, the gears in my head started turning, and they haven't stopped ever since. This is proofread by the lovely @ccbsrmsf1; I could not have written this without your help and support 🩷
EVENTS Masterlist | @mcukinkbingo | Position: missionary
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Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: @ccbsrmsf1
Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist
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You're practically floating around the communal kitchen while baking, one of your favorite pastime activities. You tend to make the sweetest treats imaginable when you're not away for missions, hanging out with friends, or buried with your nose in a book. One person, in particular, has greatly liked you and your expert baking skills.
Since you joined the Avengers almost five years ago, Tony hasn't been able to keep his gaze off you because you radiate natural happiness and calm. On the battlefield, you always manage to keep a level head no matter how difficult it gets, which he admires. During those years, he has also developed a massive crush on you, which he has managed to keep under wraps all this time. Little does he know, you feel the same about him, too.
"Are you excited to see Tony again?" Natasha asks as you put the cookies in the oven. You made a batch specifically for him after he texted you about how rough his last mission was. The butterflies in your stomach go wild at the mention of his name, though you pretend nothing's going on, just like you have done all this time.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Nat," you said while rolling your eyes, though you know exactly what she's talking about. You've been crushing on Tony for a long time, too, and it seemed to be visible to everyone except you and him.
"Sure you do," she says before standing up straight, letting you know they're back before going to her room to give the two of you some privacy. Tony walks into the kitchen with a look of defeat on his face, and your heart sinks at the sight—you've rarely seen him like this before.
"Hi, Cupcake," he says to you as he sits down on a chair by the kitchen island, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He's really struggling, and you know he needs your company right now.
"Shall I make you a cup of tea? I have cookies in the oven that are almost done as well," you tell him, and he hums appreciatively. Before he met you, he would immediately grab something stronger, but something inside him flipped the moment you took care of him after a challenging mission. So now, he prefers to drink some tea and enjoy your baked goods while in your company because simply being around you lifts his mood.
The tea is quickly made, and you walk around the kitchen island to sit next to him as you put his mug in front of him.
"Thank you," he whispers before he places his head on your shoulder and lets out a deep sigh. His eyes are closed as his hands wrap around the warm ceramic of the mug, and he can immediately feel himself calming down. Your familiar scent and warmth radiate comfort to Tony, and the two of you stay like that until the cookies are done, and you have to get them out of the oven.
"Would you like to try one? I made your favorites after hearing about the mission," you said shyly, and Tony immediately perked up. Knowing you made these specifically for him made his heart beat faster, and the sparkle in his dark brown eyes returned.
"How could I say no to your delicious baked goods, Cupcake? They're my favorites after a long mission," he says, and you nod. You put two of them on a plate before sitting down again and letting them cool while you sip your tea.
"Are you ready to talk about it?" you ask him, but he shakes his head. Tony usually talked about his missions with you as a 'debriefing,' but he wants to live in your comfortable bubble right now.
"Okay," you say softly before sipping your tea again, and Tony does the same with his. He groans softly as the warm liquid slowly makes its way down his throat, soothing him from the inside out. When he puts his mug down, you break off a bit of a cookie before holding it to his lips. It's a seemingly innocent gesture, but how he looks at you with a fire in his eyes lets you know it is anything but.
Your eyes flick from his plump, pink lips to his dark, chocolate-brown eyes, and you must suppress the whimper that wants to move out of your chest. The way your heart beats faster as you lift the baked good to his mouth doesn't go unnoticed by you, but from the look on his face, you know he's feeling the same, too.
His lips parted slightly before he took a bite of the sweet cookie, the taste exploding on his tongue in the best way possible. A soft moan escapes his lips, and you clench your thighs together at the sound, wishing it was you who was coaxing them out instead of the sweet cookie in his mouth. He keeps his eyes closed as he enjoys the taste, though before he can open them, you excuse yourself, quickly making your way to your room after what just happened.
Tony is confused as he wonders what he did wrong, but he ultimately decides to leave it be for now, as he doesn't have the emotional bandwidth to go after you. He makes a mental note to check up on you later, though he won't know what hit him once he does.
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A few hours have passed since you shared that intimate moment with Tony, and you're still horrified by how you left him there. At first, you paced through your room while debating whether or not to go back, and when you finally decided to do so, he was gone, and you were too late.
Now you were thinking about the whole ordeal again, and more specifically about the soft moan, Tony let out when he tasted your cookie and the arousal he made you feel by doing that. A flame roars up in your belly at the thought alone, so you decide to help yourself using your trusty vibrator like you have done countless times before.
The lilac-colored silicone toy lands on your bed with a soft thud before you remove your clothes, leaving you in only your underwear. You quickly slip under the covers before getting comfortable, your vibrator in your hand as you tease yourself a little bit first.
The toy comes to life with a soft hum, and you place it over your panties for some light teasing over your clit. Your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth as you move it up and down, your hips rutting up. The friction of the vibrations combined with your arousal has you on the edge of release sooner than you thought, so you stop yourself before it's too late.
This time you guide the toy under your panties, sliding it through your soaked folds before turning it on, making you gasp at the feeling of it against your sensitive clit. You moan softly as you rub it over the sensitive bundle of nerves, all the while memories of Tony go through your mind.
When you slide the toy into your pussy, you moan Tony's name loudly as you turn up the setting on it, giving you more and more pleasure while you take your time with it. Your free hand is rolling and tugging on your nipples under your bra, only adding to your pleasure.
The moment you gasped out Tony's name, he happened to walk over to your room to talk about what happened, but he came to a halt right the moment you moaned his name. At first, he wasn't sure he heard you correctly, but the moans became louder, and he could clearly hear you say his name.
Tony can feel himself chub up in his pants, and he's thankful he decided not to put on any underwear after his shower; it would only have been in the way of him and his pleasure. He listens for just a moment longer until he's almost at the point of cumming untouched, which is when he knocks on the door, and you shriek at the sudden sound.
"Uh—oh, one moment!" you say as you quickly put your vibrator into your drawer, not caring about the clean-up for now. All you know is that whoever is on the other side of the door probably heard you, and you're scared to find out who it is.
"Come in," you say after gathering yourself back together for a moment, but all that goes out the window when you see it's Tony, who is on the other side of the door. All color drains from your face at the realization. He definitely heard you moan his name, and now he knows you've been fantasizing about him.
"T-Tony, hi..." you say as your voice trails off, and your gaze lowers. Your line of sight is immediately drawn to the tent he's pitching in his pants. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth at the sight before quickly looking away as you know you shouldn't be staring at him and his cock - which has invaded your mind for way too long now.
"I came here to talk, but I think I might want to do something else instead. Hearing you moan my name like that got me so fucking hard for you, Cupcake, and I think I know the best way to relieve myself of the tension," he says confidently as he walks over to you, and all you can do is nod.
"Let me show you how a real cock can make you cum, and I will ensure you it'll be much better than the shitty excuse of a toy you just fucked yourself on," he continues, stripping himself of every last bit of clothing while walking over to you. He kneels on the bed before crawling over to you, caging you in between his arms before lowering himself until he's only a few inches away from your face.
"If you want me to stop, tell me now, Cupcake. I won't be able to once I've tasted you," he whispers, but you shake your head. You don't want him to stop; you want him to make you fall apart on his cock like he promised, as well as so much more.
"I need you, Tony, please," you tell him, and within less than a second, his lips are on yours in a bruising kiss, all the air punched out of your lungs at the movement. Your hand laces into his hair while your other one glides down his back until you've reached his ass, squeezing it in a bold moment. The moan leaving Tony's lips has you ruining your panties even further as a gush of arousal soaks them.
"I've been waiting so long for this, Cupcake; I need you so bad," Tony says, and you nod as he strips the comforter away from you, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties before him. The fabric of both is pulled off your body in an instant, leaving you bare to him.
"Look at you, Cupcake, you're an absolute sight for sore eyes," Tony tells you as his fingers glide over your body, softly tugging on your nipples before sliding through your folds and gathering the slick there. He puts his fingers in his mouth as he hums appreciatively, and your eyes flutter shut at the sight before you.
"Look at me, Cupcake; I need you to look at me when I slide into you for the first time. I need to commit every second of it to memory because I know it'll be a sight I'll never be able to forget,'' he whispers, and you do as he asks. His hand wraps around his long, veiny monster he calls a cock before pumping a few times and lining up with your entrance.
"Take a deep breath for me, Cupcake," he tells you, and when you do, he slides in with a single thrust, and your back arches into him as you moan his name loudly. The smirk on his face is unmistakable as he allows you to adjust to his size, but he doesn't get a chance to say anything before you do.
"Fuck, I love you so much," you tell him as your fingers squeeze his biceps to ground yourself as you adjust to his size. You've never been with anyone of Tony's size, and even though it's a pleasurable burn, you want him to stay still for a bit longer.
Tony looks down at you with wide eyes after your love confession.
"I love you too, Cupcake. God, I've been dying to tell you that," he says with a breathy laugh, and you pull him down for a kiss as he starts to set a slow pace, his hips rolling against your pelvis in a leisurely rhythm. He cannot even begin to tell you how long he's been waiting to tell you that, but now that he has, he can't stop telling you.
"You're so beautiful, loving, and funny, and I love you so fucking much," he says, and you nod as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer.
"I love you too, Tony, so much," and with those words, he sets a fast pace that has you screaming his name within no time at all. The sound of skin slapping against skin and your combined moans make for a beautiful chorus that Tony can't get enough of as he's nearing the end of his ropes.
"Fuck, 'm close! Where do you want me, Cupcake?" he asks you, but you already know the answer.
"Inside me, Tony, I'm on birth control," you say, and he lets out a sigh of relief at your words. Even though you know it isn't the safest option, you don't want to let him go. You want him to cum inside you and mark you as his because you are exactly that. His.
"Yeah? Does my girl want my cum in her sweet, tight pussy?" he asks, and you nod as you slide your hand between your bodies, your fingers playing with your clit until you're trembling and clenching around Tony's cock, milking him for all he's worth.
His pace falters quickly after your orgasm, and with a loud grunt, he shoots every last drop of his cum in your pussy until he's spent. As he falls to the side, he pulls you with him to have you close as you're both enjoying the post-sex haze.
When you both come down from your high, you take a shower together where there are more kisses shared, as well as some less innocent touches, but you're both sensitive from the sex, so you both keep it to a minimum. When you're both finished and dry, you head to the kitchen to prepare some more tea.
"I'm a lucky man with you, Cupcake," Tony tells you as he stands behind you. You're wearing nothing more than his shirt and a pair of panties, while Tony is only clad in his jeans. He places some soft kisses on your neck, his facial hair making you giggle as he does.
You don't notice the rest of the Avengers slowly coming into the kitchen, too, and they're all sharing looks as they see the two of you all cozy by the counter.
"Finally! It took you guys long enough!" Natasha says, and that's when you both look at all the Avengers. Tony keeps you close to him as a blush spreads over both of your faces, making her laugh loudly. You give Tony a look of 'What is she talking about?' but he shrugs before placing a kiss against your temple.
"Guys, come on. The sexual tension has been dripping off you both ever since you first met; it's a miracle it took this long. However, as long as you let me be the maid of honor during your wedding, I will support your relationship with all my heart," Natasha tells you, making everyone laugh.
"Deal!" you say as you melt into Tony's hold. After that, congratulations were exchanged, and everyone quickly accepted your relationship. From that moment on, you and Tony were inseparable, and you are nothing if not a woman of your word, so the moment Tony proposed to you, you asked Nat to be your maid of honor, which she happily accepted.
Life with Tony is nothing short of amazing, and you're secretly thanking yourself every day for moaning his name that day because it brought you the best thing that has ever happened to you. It shows that sometimes the best things can bloom from the most embarrassing moments, but you wouldn't change this one for the world.
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salty-says · 2 months
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Ok wtf the post went away but the lovely @amortentiaz asked for monster trio + Shanks reaction to reader that was previously involved with other pirates romantically!
Monster Trio + Shanks
• When Luffy first saw you, he instantly knew you had to be a member of his crew. You are strong and carry yourself quite confidently. When you helped him out reluctantly in a scuffle with Marines he asked you to join and absolutely didn’t take no for an answer.
• You quickly got along with the rest of the crew as you already had proved yourself greatly by helping them out in a tight pinch.
Luffy
•Luffy didn’t really understand his attraction to you at first as he never felt something like that for anyone else. He was confused as to why he felt differently about you than the rest of the crew.
•He finally admitted to you that being around you “feels like he’s going into Gear 2” as his heart starts pumping rapidly and he feels stronger.
•Soon enough you reciprocated his feelings and he was overjoyed. He treated you very special and because of this he let you nap with him and “share” some of his food (the crumbs).
•One day Robin was reading the paper during breakfast and mentioned that Sir. Crocodile had been prosecuted into Impel Down. Immediately you froze and asked to see for yourself.
•You couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw that he was in fact in Impel Down. After not hearing from him in years this was certainly a shock.
•Usopp watching this questioned your odd behavior but you tried to hide it best you could. Robin being the second in command to Crocodile during her time with Baroque Works interjected, “Did they not tell you that they had a ‘thing’ with Crocodile?”
•Immediately everyone in the room froze. The tea Sanji was pouring splashed onto the ground, Usopp’s jaw fell to the floor, and Chopper’s eyes looked as if they popped out of his head.
•You looked down and blushed shamefully not knowing how to even recover from that. “Is that true?” Nami asked. All you could do was nod your head in response.
•Then they turned to Luffy who was still gouging his way through his meal, and stealing the forgotten food off of the others’
• “Are you going to say anything about this Luffy?” Usopp asked. Luffy paused his eating momentarily and quirked a brow. “What do I need to say about it?” Nami shrieked at Luffy, “Do you really not care that they had a personal relationship with Crocodile? Remember the one that stuck his hook through your body?”
•Luffy only furrowed his brows in confusion, “Why should I care who my partner was romantically involved with. It’s their past and I don’t have any reason to pry in out of them. Plus it’s over and they like me so.”
•Your eyes widened as you looked at Luffy. You smiled and blushed knowing you hit the jackpot with the captain.
Zoro
•Zoro didn’t care much for relationships, believed that they were merely a distraction. But when you came along he decided that maybe something casual wouldn’t hurt.
•He was blunt with it, telling you his feelings. Doesn’t do much physical affection until it’s night and he uses you as a personal teddy bear. He doesn’t need constant reassurance of your feelings for him and that’s what he likes most about you
•One night as you were up in the crow’s nest with him after her just got out of the shower you mustered up the courage to ask how he got that giant scar on his chest.
• “Battled the world’s greatest swordsman when I really shouldn’t have” He simply responded looking for his shirt. “And he did that to you?” You asked. “Yeah, I got owned by Mihawk.”
•You paused before your eyes widened and you turned to be face to face with Zoro, “Mihawk did that to you? The Dracule Mihawk?” Zoro furrowed his brows, “I’m pretty sure there isn’t any other master swordsman named Mihawk. Why do you ask?”
•You paused debating to tell him. “Oh, nothing…” Zoro knew this was a lie and kneeled in front of you gripping your chin and turning it towards him, “Tell me.”
•You sighed and pulled your legs to your chest, “You’re going to hate me if I tell you.” Zoro smirked, “Is that so? I want to know even more, now.”
•You exhale and look away once again, “I had sex with Mihawk.” You said swiftly hoping he wouldn’t catch all of it. Out of all the things to confess he never believed you would say that. Zoro paused and stared at you in disbelief. After a bit he squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in deeply, “How long ago?”
•You looked in his general direction but avoided his eyes, “Honestly, the last time was like a couple weeks before I met you guys.” Zoro’s eyes shot open, “A couple wee-…?! Did you just say ‘last time’? It happened more than once?!”
•You squeaked a bit, “Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?” “YES!” You bit your lip, “I don’t even know like a lot. And I mean a lot. He may not show but goddamn he can get quite passionate, and it-”
•Zoro put a hand over your mouth, “Before you ask I’m not mad. But I do have to ask, was he bigger than me?”
Sanji
•Lover fucking boy Sanji. When you came along gosh he felt so many emotions rushing to his body. Instantly fell in love but it felt different than the love he felt for anyone else.
•Gives little treats to spoil you, makes you specialty dishes and constant hugs. Gosh he just loves you so much and you can’t help but love him back.
•Feels so genuinely in love and lucky to be with you. Doesn’t fully understand why you chose him but tries not to think about it to often. Loved when you join him during his meal prep time. You guys talk and he makes you try different things to see if you like it.
•After a meal one night you offered to help him with dishes and even after him rejecting your offer countless times you still managed to wiggle your way over to the sink. He compromised by letting you dry to dishes and you rolled you eyes and obliged.
•After you guys finished Sanji lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. He released the smoke out and sighed contentedly. You smiled mischievously and grabbed it out from his lips and took a drag yourself.
•exhaling the smoke you managed to keep back the coughs that wanted to escape your throat. Needless to say Sanji was very shocked at this sudden new revelation.
•He took back the cigarette in his hand and took a drag of his own, “You never told me you smoked.” A small cough escaped your throat and Sanji quirked a smile, “I haven’t in a while.”
•Sanji raised his brow, “You used to?” You smiled slightly shifting on your feel noticing the conversation shifting in a direction you hadn’t told him about yet. “Yeah, but only once in a while. My ex smoked cigars more than 8 times a day.”
•Sanji nodded and his heart raced nervously as this was the first you had mentioned anything about your ex to him, “That doesn’t sound healthy, I mean I know I’m not one to talk, but more than 8?! He’s basically asking to die.”
•You chuckled and shrugged your shoulders, “Well they can’t actually hurt him, believe it or not.” Sanji’s head cocked in confusion, “How’s that?”
• You sighed deciding now was the best time to tell him, “Devil fruit. Guy was actually made of smoke.” At this Sanji inhaled too quickly and started a coughing fit. You panicked and rubbed his back trying to soothe him through it.
• Once he regained his compuse, “Sorry, mon ange, but you’re not insinuating that you ex is that marine captain Smoker, are you?” You went silent. “Are you?!” He asked more impatiently.
•You looked down and nodded, knowing it was shameful for a pirate to ever be involved with a marine. You looked up to meet Sanji’s flabbergasted gaze, “I know, and I’m sorry I never told you. It’s not fair to you. I understand entirely if this changes your feelings for me. I will not hold anything against you if you don’t want to be with me.”
• At this Sanji straightened up and regained his composure. Quickly putting out his cigarette he cupped your cheeks softly. “Oh mon ange, my feelings for you could never change. If you think this silly thing is enough to stunt my love you are truly mistaken. I love you so much! Something like this, yes, is surprising. However, you’re with me now and I’m the luckiest man in the world to be able to call myself your boyfriend. Do you understand me, ange?”
•Tears filled your eyes as you launched yourself into Sanji’s arms. “I love you.” Sanji smiled and held you close, “I love you too.”
(I know Smoker is a marine not a pirate but I thought he was a good character to put)
Shanks
•Shanks met you on an island and knew he had to take you with him on his adventures. You were a proud member of the Red-Haired Pirates and the proud partner of Red-Haired Shanks.
•Shanks loved to party and get drunk with you. Loved laying sloppy booze tasting kiss to your mouth. And absolutely lost it when you sat in his lap as the rest of the crew partied around you guys.
•You a more on the light-weight side always got giggly when you were drunk. As you sat on Shank’s lap you told him the most random things from your life. Tonight you decided to tell him about one of your old romantic conquests.
• “You wanna know s’mthin crazy Shanks?” You lazily asked him, your head resting on his shoulder. He smiled down at you, “Yeah, what’s that?” You giggled into his neck, “I once dated a clown. An actual fucking clown. You ‘leive that?!”
•Shanks paused for a moment before images of his old buddy Buggy resurfaced. Shanks smirked and looked down at you, “Let me guess, his name was Buggy?”
• “Nuh Uh. You’re s’upid. His name was Bugg- wait how’s you know?!” You sat up quickly.
•Shanks had never been more amused in his life, “I’m just really good at guessing.” You grimaced, “Are you mad at me because I dated someone ‘fore you?”
•Shanks brought you in for a quick kiss, “Nope!” You looked at him shocked, “Really!?” He kissed your nose, “How could I be mad when I dated the clown too?”
• You sighed and went back to resting against his chest, “Feel better now…WAIT WHAT?!”
(I know Ace was supposed to be in here but I truly don’t know how to write for Ace bc I have a shallow understanding of his character and I didn’t want to give a shitty one so I simply just didn’t include him)
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reasonsforhope · 9 months
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AYESHA RASCOE, HOST:
With Spain and Portugal saying that hundreds of people have died from the heat waves sweeping through Europe this month, the longer-term view might come as a surprise. Over the past 50 years, the number of deaths attributed to weather-related disasters has actually fallen. Yes, you heard that right. The World Meteorological Organization says that the number of disasters has increased five times over the past 50 years, but the number of fatalities has fallen by two-thirds. Vox climate writer Umair Irfan has delved into this paradox and joins us now. Welcome to the program, Umair.
UMAIR IRFAN: Thanks for having me, Ayesha.
RASCOE: So how can this be? Like, how can the number of deaths be falling even though we hear the news, we see the disasters? You know, seas are rising, summers are hotter, hurricanes seem to be getting stronger. So how is it possible that deaths can be down?
IRFAN: Well, there are two main factors here. One is better forecasting - basically being able to get ahead of these disasters and then hopefully being able to get people out of harm's way. So that's really prominent with things like hurricanes and heat waves. We can actually see those things days in advance. The other side of the equation is how well we can cope with things like storms, fires and heat waves when they do occur. So we have better tools - things like sea walls. We have better building codes. We have firefighting teams that can get people out of fire zones. And so between those two aspects - you know, the better forecasting and the better tools - we've been able to avert a lot of deaths, even though the global population has grown about fourfold since the start of the 20th century.
RASCOE: Are the technological advances that you're talking about available even in less-developed areas?
IRFAN: It's not, unfortunately. And you're hitting on a very important point. You know, the WMO pointed out that about 90% of disaster-related fatalities that occur today are occurring in developing countries. And there's a huge gap in terms of being able to anticipate these disasters before they occur and being able to respond to them and being able to rebuild in their aftermath. And that really is a big shortfall that a lot of world leaders are starting to get concerned about...
You know, the World Meteorological Organization, they launched this initiative to basically say that they want the whole world covered by disaster early warning systems over the next five years. And they think that this is something that's going to be taking a big bite out of the fatalities and the casualties caused by these disasters. So I think it's worth highlighting the progress that's made, but also the progress that we still need to make.
-via NPR, July 17, 2022
Thanks so much to @gardening-tea-lesbian for the link!
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